


Sucker Punch

by MaroonDragon



Series: Sucker Punched [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: All Human, Endgame Steter, M/M, Steter - Freeform, boxing au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-24
Updated: 2016-02-16
Packaged: 2018-05-16 00:58:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 40,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5807113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaroonDragon/pseuds/MaroonDragon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles is no boxer. He would hurt himself before he would land a punch on his opponent. His boyfriend Derek loves the sport however, and earns his money boxing professionally for his uncle Peter, who runs the Hale gym. They are like night and day, and if Derek can pretend to be interested in his boring office stories, Stiles can take an interest in boxing right? </p><p>As it turns out, boxing is more than throwing punches, and if Stiles is good at anything, it's finding patterns and using them to his advantage. Showing Derek how he can increase the strength in his punches by shifting his feet a little faster is only the beginning. Soon he's working with Peter to take the Hale Wolves to victory, even if it might mean the demise of the relationship that started it all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Take an interest in me

**Author's Note:**

> This story is Steter, so I'm sorry for any Sterek fans. I've put it in the tags. I'm also not sure if I'll be adding any graphic descriptions of the fights, or sex scenes, so the rating may go up as I add more chapters. This is my first attempt into the Steter and Teen Wolf Fandom, so I hope I do the characters justice. It hasn't been beta-read, so all mistakes are my own.

Stiles doesn’t really know why he’s there of all places. With his flailing limbs he’s more likely to hurt himself than anyone else in the boxing gym. Still, Derek had decided he wanted to teach Stiles how to actually throw a punch. Personally, Stiles believed the guy just wanted to show off. He could understand why Derek wanted to drag him to the gym. They had been going out for several months now, and they hadn’t really found much to have in common with each other than the fact that the sex was incredible. This was Derek’s turf. The guy was a semi-professional boxer. It ran in the family apparently. This was his attempt at them finding a common ground. Derek didn’t say much, he wasn’t much of a reader, and throwing punches was something he was good at. Receiving them too if the little sparring match in the ring was anything to go by. Stiles had amused Derek by hitting the bags a couple of times, so now he could sit back and relax as Derek trained for his upcoming matches. 

“Derek, you do know that the point of blocking your face is to actually stop the punches from hitting your face, don’t you?” Peter sniped, while he was the one who was currently repeatedly hitting said face. The man, who was consequently Derek’s uncle, owned the gym and coached Derek and the other boxers there. Every win they had was directly brought back to the man who trained them, and the gym they trained at. They were also known as the Hale Wolves. 

Stiles could never really be certain whether he liked or hated Peter. He had met the man before he’d even met Derek. Scott had joined the gym at the beginning of the year, finally having outgrown his regular asthma attacks. Their high school games of lacrosse were now replaced with Stiles holding a bag while Scott punched it. He very rarely made it to the gym though. The hot muscular guys with no shirts on weren’t much of a deterrent for Stiles, but aside from some lust induced fantasies, it was also a good way to knock his self-esteem. He knew he was out of shape. At college he still had Scott to drag him out of the room to go jogging, but once they graduated, Stiles was less inclined to leave his warm bed in the mornings to go and exercise of all things.

So right now he was in a dead-end job, which was so boring it left him mentally and physically too exhausted to actually go and exercise. It wasn’t his passion by a long shot, but he had failed to pass the tests to go into law-enforcement like his father, and that had always been his dream. Apparently he wasn’t good at obeying rules. He had broken various laws during his teenage years, mostly by sticking his nose in things he shouldn’t have, but he hadn’t expected that to bite him in the ass several years down the road. He knew he wasn't one to stay put when he knew what he was doing was right, so maybe he wasn't the best one to uphold the law. It was difficult to figure out where to go from there though. It had completely turned the idea of what his future was going to be like upside down. He needed to pay his rent though, so he was currently working as nothing more than a glorified paperboy at some high end law firm in Beacon Hills. Scott was still working on getting a degree as a veterinarian, but boxing was a good job on the side that paid some of his bills as long as he kept winning matches for Peter.

Stiles smothered a laugh when Peter continued to taunt Derek. This was why he never could decide on how he felt about the gym owner. Peter was a cocky asshole who believed every success had come around purely because he trained his fighters, which Stiles felt was unfair considering how much work Derek and Scott put into their training, but Peter was also fond of the same sarcasm that Stiles favoured. which left him often trying not to be amused as the man bated his own nephew, while Derek only got angrier at his uncle.

Derek finally was allowed to leave the ring after thirty more minutes of going through various moves. Stiles would have complained about coming to the gym, only to be put on the side-lines after ten minutes, but Derek is sweaty, and all those muscles…well, Stiles can forgive him for making him stay. He knows that Derek is running on an endorphin rush from the work-out, and this is the moment when Stiles’ likes him best. Derek isn’t much of a talker on most days, and he is easily annoyed by Stiles’ incessant chatter about things that do not interest him. Stiles’ isn’t above admitting that he sometimes does it on purpose, just so Derek will use his very effective technique of kissing him to shut him up. It does make Stiles feel like that their relationship, which they haven’t even really clearly defined yet, is mostly just based on sex and going on dates to the movies. He likes Derek. He really does. They just have not much in common.

“Don’t tell me I have to get into the ring with your creepy uncle.” Stiles grins, darting away from Derek when the guy reaches for him. He might like the look of Derek being all happy and less clothed, but he doesn’t need to be covered in sweat.

“I wouldn’t dare to let you in the ring with me Stiles. Such a delicate face shouldn’t be bloody and bruised.” The man has come down from the ring as well, and he’s currently wiping his face and neck with a towel to get rid of the sweat. That’s the other reason why Stiles feels weird around Peter. The man isn’t even subtle about his flirting, and while he knows Peter probably does it just to piss Derek off, it still makes him feel off kilter. He can’t deny that Peter is nice to look at, even with the age difference between them, but he’s dating the man’s nephew for fucks sake.

“You would need to land a punch first.” Stiles snorts, as if found the thought of Peter even managing to get a hit in is downright idiotic. “But you’re right. I’ll leave the boxing to people with faces like yours. There isn’t much there that’s worth keeping intact.”

Peter’s answering grin makes it rather obvious he doesn’t believe even for a second that Stiles doesn’t find him attractive. Stiles hates that the man’s right. Thankfully Derek seems to have had enough of his uncle’s company, and with a last glare thrown in the man’s direction, he drags Stiles to the lockers, while Peter gives him a jaunty wave and heads to his office.

* * *

 

“You know, I was reading this book the other day, about a murder case from fifteen years ago and they said….” He trailed off, realising that Derek isn’t really paying attention to anything he's saying. Stiles is not even sure that the guy has heard him.

He had gone home with Derek after his practice, and the endorphins had kept the guy pretty happy. Enough for them to end up having sex on the kitchen counter, having dinner almost an hour later than they had planned. Now it has worn off though, or perhaps it’s just his interest in Stiles. He knows Derek wants to turn on the TV to watch some matches, but he’s polite enough to know that Stiles isn’t all that interested in boxing and wouldn't enjoy such a thing. Sure, he likes going to Derek and Scott their fights, but that's because he knows them. Seeing them get hurt isn’t pleasurable to watch, but he wants to support the guys. Derek is eyeing the TV remote though, while humming along with Stiles’ story, pretending to be interested.

"You can watch the game if you like." Stiles finally concedes. "I'll watch it with you. That way I might actually get it when Scott starts to talk about this stuff. He doesn't know anything about Star Wars, but he can quote boxing statistics as if it's his job." Derek is trying to be interested in his stories, so why shouldn't Stiles try to be a little more interested in Derek's life? Boxing is his career, the least Stiles can do is know who the hell it is they're talking about when discussing the real professionals. The ones that get offered deals by important brands and the likes.

"Thank you, I'll make it up to you later." Derek assures him, giving Stiles a kiss that would have probably been a little better if he hadn't reached for the remote lying on the couch behind him.

"I'll hold you to that." If Stiles doesn't lose focus halfway through the programm and falls asleep that is. 

Derek really loves his sport though. Not even two minutes later he's already yelling and motioning at the TV as if the referee will actually hear his comments. Maybe that's what has Stiles' so agitated. Derek has something he looks forward to every day. Stiles is almost gleeful when he has a flat tire just so he can call in late for work, even if it's a hassle. So he tries his best and focusses on the match. 

It's still gruesome to watch a guy have his teeth punched out, and he can't help but winch as the blows come raining down on the victim. He would have assumed that the victim in question, who seems to have quite a few pounds on his opponent, would have been the one landing the punches. At first there seems to be very little logic to the change of pace, until Stiles takes a better look. Spending so much time with Derek and Scott meant that some of the knowledge was rubbed off on Stiles. Moves that look like they're just random, can now be identified as combinations of various punches that have the desired effect. The smaller guy is making excellent use of his weight, along with the confusion of his opponent as the blows seem to come from everywhere at once. It's science in a very specialised way. 

The spark is lit. He still finds the sport violent, and he doesn't want to be in the ring, but perhaps if he can figure out the physics of landing the right punch at the right angle, and apply it to Derek's fighting technique, he might just actually have found something that interests them both. Stiles had always enjoyed physics, and he really needed something to challenge his mind before he would be able to actually feel his braincells dying. Which would in fact happen if he went another day with just his job to occupy him.

Derek might not be all that interested in the science behind it, but Stiles was certain he would want to improve. The new season was starting in two months, but as far as Stiles could tell Derek was a fairly good boxer, but not nearly in the leagues to make it to State Championships. Scott, who had only recently started, already showed more potential. So maybe Derek wouldn't understand why a certain punch had more effect if he moved just an inch to the right, but he would be able to see the results and execute the moves. 

Glancing at his boyfriend, who was now cheering along with the crowd on the screen as the smaller guy was pronounced the winner, he decided not to tell him yet. Stiles would need more data, and he would need to see if he could actually do it. Just because he had spotted something during a random match, didn't mean he could actually spot and change patterns in Derek's style. Turning his eyes back to the TV where a new match was just starting, he resolved to ask Peter for the tapes of Derek's matches the next time he was at the gym. He had some research to do. 

 


	2. In the beginning...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Why did Stiles ever think that Peter could be anything but creepy?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the kudos and comments so far! I really appreciate it. I'm trying to update this story pretty quickly, because uni will start again in a week, and I'm not sure how much time I'll have then. I'm still fiddling with the formatting on this story, so if you think there is too much space between the text, or you have another issue, please tell me ^^

“You want me to give you Derek’s tapes?” If Peter’s eyebrows went any higher they would disappear into his hair. “What exactly do you want to do with them?”

 

Stiles sighed, already feeling the irritation spike. Derek didn’t need to train today, so he had gone ahead and visited the gym. That way he wouldn’t have to explain to his boyfriend why he wanted to have a private conversation with his uncle. His mood, which had been pretty good up till now, was quickly plummeting however.

 

“I want to see if I can find a way to help him improve his game.” He muttered. As expected, Peter didn’t believe him for one bit.

 

“You think you can improve Derek’s game? Stiles, I watched you nearly break your wrist on one of our punching bags because your angle was all wrong. You seriously want me to believe that you are capable of improving Derek’s game?”

 

Well, when he put it like that, Stiles could understand why Peter may have had his doubts about Stiles being any help at all. He didn’t know all the official terms, or who was winning, and what famous move they had coined. In his defence, that day he had just been messing around with Scott before the guy had his big try-out with Peter to see if he could make it onto the official, and most importantly, paid team. It had been how he had met Derek actually. He had slammed his hand against the bag, trying to imitate Scott, only to have his wrist scream out in pain. In the end he had only sprained it, but his cry had alerted Derek, who had come over to see what was wrong. Scott had made introductions while Stiles tried to not come across as a wimp while his wrist was inspected.

 

“What will keep you from selling them to the opponents? My nephew is hardly known for making great judgement calls when it comes to his partners.” Peter continued on, ignoring Stiles’ moment of reflection. “I’m sure your darling Derek has told you about Kate.”

 

He hadn’t in fact. Scott had. It was apparently common knowledge that Derek had been foolishly in love, and in a moment of weakness, he had confided in her about his family. The Hales were notoriously good boxers, with various champions that had made it to the absolute top. Kate Argent had belonged to a different gym. Derek had blindly trusted her with all their weaknesses when it came to fighting in the ring. The humiliation of their continued losses after that had made them the laughingstock of the ring. They could hardly explain that their own family member had sold them out. It wouldn’t make the embarrassment any less.

 

“I know, yes, but I am not part of another gym, and I’m pretty sure you’ll find me in a ditch somewhere if I ever snitched.” Stiles was fairly certain of that. Boxers weren’t violent people by definition. Scott wouldn’t hurt a fly, even though he had punched someone’s teeth out during his last match. Stiles snitching would probably invoke some kind of pack hatred from the team though.

 

“You still have not explained to me how you actually intend to improve his technique by watching his tapes.” Well, at least it wasn’t an outright ‘no’ yet.

 

“Look, I’ll admit I know really nothing about boxing, but I know about science.” Stiles huffed. “It is physics that determines how hard a punch is going to land. The speed of a person’s moves also depends on calculations, even if you don’t think about it when you do…”

 

“You intend to try and teach my nephew physics? No offence, Stiles, I think it’s admirable you think you can actually improve his work, but if you think you can get Derek to understand anything above high school level is really a lost cause.” Well, that was rather harsh, but Peter was somewhat right about it. Derek wasn’t one for studying. He learned by doing. That didn’t mean he was an idiot, but he wouldn’t bother to even try and focus on the paperwork Stiles' theories would probably require.

 

“I’m not planning to give him an exam. I’ll do the calculations, I’ll figure things out, and I’ll just tell him what to do. We make the perfect team.”  Stiles would end up in the A&E if he tried those moves, but he could work them out. He rolled his eyes when Peter made a gagging noise. Seriously, was the man five?

 

“I’ll talk to you again when you stop being impressed by my nephew flexing his muscles, and you need some actual conversation. You’re allowed access to his tapes, but only in this room, and you cannot take your research with you. I want to see what you’ve done before you leave.” Stiles managed to suppress a victory dance, but only barely.

“Fine, but Derek can’t know about this. Not until I have some actual proof that my theories can be applied.” He countered. Considering what happened with Kate Argent, he wasn’t surprised Peter was more than a little cautious. “I’ll need my laptop though. Danny wrote me a simulation programme for a project of mine in college. I need it to actually prove the theory.”  
  
Peter seemed reluctant to agree, but with a final nod, their deal was sealed. Now all Stiles had to do was to find a way to get around the fact that he would be spending a lot of hours in Peter’s office, without Derek finding out why.

 

* * *

 

 

“You know, you really have been spending a lot of time in there.” Derek complained for the tenth time. Stiles honestly didn’t see what the issue was. Every time Derek was there, he was too busy training to really notice Stiles. Sure, they sometimes talked while he got to work on punching the crap out of the bags, but mostly he was too out of breath to say much.

 

“I told you, I need some extra cash now my hours have been cut at my actual job. Lydia is letting me do some of the extra paperwork in return for some money. God knows she doesn’t need to worry about Peter firing her for delegating tasks.” Lydia was probably the only person Peter feared, and no one blamed him.

 

Lydia had been in Stiles’ class in high school as well, and while he had crushed on her since day one, she had never deigned to talk to him until Scott made it big on the lacrosse team. She was the complete package of brains and beauty. If she was angered, Stiles swore her hair crackled with energy, and that sweet voice would become that of a harpy. His crush had soon faded, but he held a healthy respect for her. Hell hath no fury like a Lydia scorned, and after having the unfortunate fate of being in her warpath once or twice he believed Peter to be a wise man for letting her do her job without too many restrictions.

 

“I know, but do you have to do it in the office all the time. I hardly get to see you.” Stiles sighed, giving Derek a kiss. It was nice the guy actually noticed him not being present, but right now there was very little he could do. “We can go for dinner or coffee when we’re done here.” He offered, before leaving Derek to get changed while he went into the office to work.

 

Peter was already there, only giving Stiles a sideway glance when he entered. “I don’t care what Christopher said, I’m going to say no to her.” Stiles could hear the person on the other end of the phone give Peter some angry rebuttal before they hung up.

 

“Trouble in paradise?” Stiles questioned, pulling out his laptop from his bag, setting up at the desk Peter had assigned him for his project two weeks ago.

 

“Allison Argent asked to be trained at my gym, so she can train with your dearly beloved Scott. Her grandfather wants me to turn her away. I was actually planning to, but seeing as he’s more annoyed if I don’t, she can stay.” The grin Peter threw his way was part predatory, part amusement.

 

They didn’t actually speak much while Stiles was working. Peter spent most of his time actually training his team, so most of the time the office was empty. Aside from some snappy comments thrown back and forth, they stuck to their own territory. This was probably the longest answer Stiles had gotten that wasn’t some sassy retort.

 

As expected Peter left the office soon after, leaving Stiles to review endlessly long fights, entering data, and doing the calculations. It wasn’t the most exciting work, seeing as he was just laying the foundations for his actual theory, but god is was nice to have his brains challenged again. He had spent a little while talking over the idea of the project with Lydia, seeing as she had wanted to know why she needed to cover for him, and she had checked over some of his work to make sure he hadn’t made a mistake. Lydia was a gifted woman, especially in maths, but she was even better in image building. If Stiles could improve the team, she was on board, but she wasn’t going to do the research for it.

 

Stiles hadn’t actually realised just how long Derek had been boxing. Not until he saw the grainy tapes from when he was just a kid. It was interesting to see Peter on them too, teaching the child how to throw a simple right hook. It was staggering how much their relationship had changed. The Derek in those videos clearly adored Peter, and Stiles couldn’t imagine Peter ever ruffling Derek’s hair now as he did in those older videos. They weren’t actually very helpful to his study, but when he’d seen the dates on the cover, he hadn’t been able to resist. Little Derek was just adorable, and Peter, who was about their age in most of them, was even more handsome than he was now. Not that Stiles had noticed it that much….really, he hadn’t.

It’s six hours later when he realises how dark it is outside, and how long he’s been working. There is an empty mug, which used to contain coffee, next to him, but he can’t remember getting up to get it. Taking his earbuds out, he’s startled by the quiet.

 

“I was wondering when you would finally join the rest of the world again.” Peter drawled, making Stiles jump.

 

“Fuck, dude. Do you have to give me a heart-attack?” Peter is seated at his desk, reading glasses on his nose, and apparently doing some paperwork. It’s not the first time Stiles has seen him with those glasses, but it reminds him that Peter is getting old. Well, older at least. Stiles has a set of glasses as well, but he rarely bothers with them. His vision is only slightly impaired. Not even enough to legally need them for driving.

 

“Do not call me dude, and I’ve been sitting here for over an hour. You even thanked me when I put down the coffee next to you.” The man is clearly amused, but Stiles’ brain sticks on the fact that Peter actually was the one to bring him coffee. In his mind the owner was a grumpy asshole who simply looked good and had a good sense of humour. Peter was not the kind of guy to be nice and bring someone coffee just because he could, but apparently he was.

 

“Oh….has Derek left already?” The lights in the gym were all turned off, with the exception of the emergency lights, and a few to find your way, but perhaps Derek was still in the locker room.

 

“He left about an hour ago with the rest of the team. They were heading out for drinks. He told me that I should tell you to join them at the pub when you’re finished. May I point out that I am not your messenger, in case you’re thinking of starting the same habit.” Stiles really couldn’t help but wonder what had happened between Derek and Peter to make the man talk about his nephew with such derision.

 

The fact that Derek had left was irritating though. He had wanted to go and grab some dinner, or at least some coffee. Apparently that wasn’t going to happen. Drinks with the team wasn’t something Stiles was interested in. After enough alcohol it always ended up with them having contests of who could win at arm-wrestling. It’s fun on occasion, but right now Stiles wants food rather than alcohol. Looking down at his work, he decided he was done for the day. Saving all his work, he closed the laptop, returned the tapes to their right position and then started to pack up.

 

Peter had gone back to his work by the time Stiles was finished, and he hesitated. There was no one in the gym anymore, and as far as Stiles could tell, Peter hadn’t had dinner either. “Would you like to come along and grab a bite to eat? I mean…if you haven’t had dinner.”

 

A strange look crossed Peter’s face, as if the man didn’t quite know what to do with a dinner offer, but as soon as it had appeared, it had gone. In exchange there was a salacious grin. “My, my, Stiles, what would Derek say? Is my nephew no longer enough for you?”

    

Why did he think Peter would ever be anything but creepy? “I was offering food. No wonder you’re single if you see every kind offer as an invitation for sex.” He huffed, too tired to deal with Peter’s shit. Grabbing his bag, he opened the door to the office, slamming it shut behind him, not wishing Peter goodnight. He glanced back once he was at the exit of the gym. The small office looked rather lonely and depressing, as it was practically the only thing lit in the empty gym. Well, that suited Peter to a T in Stiles’ opinion.


	3. Tug of war

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've already said it in reply to a few comments, but I can't tell you about anything that's going to happen. I write each chapter as it comes up, and I really only have a very minimal plotline that I work with. That said, I do love hearing your speculations of why you think certains things have happened or will happen. Who knows what you'll inspire my brain to come up with!

Peter’s behaviour towards him didn’t really change after that. Stiles still continued to trade barbs with him whenever he joined him in the office, and they were silent in between. Stiles did start to make made it a point to always have Derek get him when he finished at the gym, regardless of how much work Stiles still had left to do. He was not going to give Peter the idea that he was unsatisfied in his relationship with Derek.

 

Derek didn’t need much prompting. As much as the glaring had annoyed Stiles whenever they had gone out, he now quite enjoyed how possessive Derek was. Apparently the guy viewed his uncle as a threat, or perhaps more like a predator, and he did everything he could to mark Stiles as his territory short of literally peeing on him. Stiles didn’t really like the implication of being property in any way, but somehow he had ended up in a tug of war between the two Hales, and he had no trouble with showing favouritism.

 

Peter for his part seemed to treat Stiles like he did every other day, unless Derek was around. The more marks the youngest Hale left on Stiles, the more lewd Peter’s comments were. He had even gone as far as touching Stiles at random moments. They were fairly innocent compared to his words: A brush against Stiles’ arm in passing, or a hand on his shoulder when Peter leaned over him to grab something. The reaction it got from Derek was more than enough though. Stiles had told him countless of times not to let his uncle rile him up, but it didn’t matter. Peter would use it against the guy every chance he got, and it usually ended with Derek on his back in the ring because he lost focus.

 

“I would ask whether you actually reported being nearly mauled to death, but I fear I may not actually like to hear about the alternative of what happened to you.” Peter drawled when Stiles stepped into his office nearly two weeks after he had asked Peter along for dinner.

 

“You know, green isn’t a good colour for you.” Stiles shot back, barely managing to resist the impulse to make a grab at his neck, where he knew large hickeys had taken their residence. “Why not try black, for your lonely and miserable soul?” Okay, so it was a little petty, but Peter was getting on his nerves.

 

“You know, this little show of you showering my nephew with affection is rather amusing. I’m not sure who will snap first. It’s either Derek trying to actually kill me, not that he will succeed, or you finally getting fed-up being treated like a chew toy.” Stiles hated the fact that the man seemed to be able to read him so well. He blamed it on years of learning how to irritate his opponents into making a mistake. The fact that Peter did it for the fun of it, rather than having an actual interest in Stiles himself only caused more agitation.

 

“You know, the only one who’s pathetic here is the guy trying to prey on someone almost fifteen years younger, just so he can irritate his only nearby relative. I think that says volumes about how much of a creep you are. Now shut up, I have work to do.” He didn’t like who he became whenever Peter was around. The man never looked even remotely insulted or hurt by the comments Stiles threw his way, which only made him more vicious, wanting to know he had at least some kind of effect on Peter.

 

The oldest living Hale actually listened to his request though and no more words were exchanged. Well, that was until Stiles finally got the break in his case. The figure in the simulation, which was supposed to represent Derek, moved across the screen, the calculations next to it showing the predicted strength of the hit, the speed of movement, and the angle it would come at. After nearly a month of putting in data, and writing calculations based on Derek’s tapes, Stiles finally could show Peter that his theory worked.

 

“It works, it actually works.” He grinned, practically running out of the office to interrupt Derek, giving him a kiss, to the amusement of the other people in the gym.

 

“That’s great Stiles…but what actually works?” Okay, so perhaps Stiles should have curbed his enthusiasm and actually explained to Derek what he had been working on. A cough from behind them made him roll his eyes.

 

“As nauseating as this little display of affection is, I believe we had a deal about you showing me the results first.” Peter’s smirk had Derek already gearing up for a fight, whether it was verbal or physical didn’t matter. Stiles would never say it to Derek, but if he was a betting man he would place his money on Peter in both fights.

 

“I didn’t show him any results, I only told him it worked. Besides, it’s about Derek, so he might as well see it.” He sniped, giving Derek a warning glance. The guy might be a Hale, and a pretty good boxer, there was still a code of conduct in the gym. Derek was too valuable to be benched, but he could be booted temporarily from the gym if he caused too much of a fuss.

 

“Look, I calculated the data, looked back on your tapes of the last two years, and I filled in your height and weight at the moment…” Stiles explained once the two men had stopped squabbling like two year olds and actually had come to the office with him. The fact that the both of them were leaning over him trying to be as touchy as possible wasn’t making the explaining easier though.

 

Derek smelled of sweat, and the general odour of the gym, which Stiles had come to appreciate during their now almost six months of dating. Peter was wearing nice cologne though. Not one of those overpowering ones that Derek favoured the few times he had really made an effort to look good –not that he needed it anyways-, but something rich that reminded Stiles of the expensive scotch his dad had at home. He couldn’t make out a distinct smell like leather, or wood, or any of those other things you usually read about in novels, but it was comforting none the less.

“So how is this going to help me?” Gods, he liked Derek, but sometimes the man really needed to use his brain a little more.

 

“The program can calculate how you should move to have the best impact, you idiot.” Well, Stiles would have put it nicer, but Peter wasn’t wrong.

 

“Now I have actually figured out the basic algorithms, I can apply them to basically anyone. Of course, you would need to get all their data put into the system, which means watching their tapes as well, but once you have analysed the data…you can run a simulation of basically everything.” He commented, letting the virtual Derek make a combination of moves, numbers showing up at the edge of the screen as to the impact. Stiles couldn’t help but think it looked like a pokemon game, where you saw the results in how many HP the opponent had lost. He decided not to voice that thought.

 

“You can apply this on anyone? Does that mean you could also use it on the opposition? Could you run the calculations to find their weaknesses?” Peter questioned, leaning back against the desk, for a moment more interested in the program than he was in pissing off Derek.

 

“I don’t know. It’s possible, but I would need to make a simulation of not just Derek’s moves, but also the opponent. Besides, humans aren’t exactly based on logic. The program can only give you an indication of what move they’ll probably use, and that’s only if I enter data of practically every match they’ve fought in the past three years. How do you plan to even get those tapes?” His program was designed to calculate how a move could be improved, not when to expect one and how. “It would take a lot more than what I’ve done now.”

 

Peter shrugged. “Give me the results of Derek’s calculations. If I can apply them in his training and he actually improves, consider yourself hired. I want at the very least to have you run the data and calculations for the rest of the team.”

 

“You want me to actually work for you?” Stiles threw a glance in Derek’s way. This had been an attempt to find common ground with Derek, but the constant pissing contests between him and his uncle might not make accepting the offer a great idea.

 

“Are you telling me you would prefer to continue working the job you have now?” Peter looked like Stiles had already signed a contract with him. How did he even know Stiles abhorred his current job?

 

“Fine, I’ll agree. I want a pay raise from my current job though.” He would also like to add that with a contract, it also meant that Peter’s behaviour towards him would be sexual harassment of an employee.

 

“And a private office.” Derek added, making both Stiles and Peter raise an eyebrow.

 

“And where exactly do you think I have the space for that, dear nephew? Should I place your precious Stiles in our broom closet just so you do not feel the need to make him looked like a battered spouse every time he comes in here?”

 

“Lydia has her own office. I’m sure you have space for Stiles.” Honest to god, Stiles was going to have a serious conversation with Derek about fighting battles for him.

 

“Miss Martin has her own office because she regularly has meetings with various stores and reporters, trying to improve our image. Not everyone gets an office just because they work here.” Peter replied sharply. The fact that Lydia scared the crap out of every sane man probably helped with that fact, though he didn’t bother pointing that out.

 

“Derek, seriously, drop it. I’m fine working here. All the information I need is in this office, and Peter is out there as well. Besides, once I have a contract I can sue him for sexual harassment. I’m fairly certain that he’s not that much of an idiot.” While Peter seemed rather affronted at the idea of Stiles suing him over his behaviour, Derek was pacified enough to let the matter drop. “Draw up a contract and I’ll sign it next time I’m here. I’ll need to finish working at the other company for another month, but I’m sure that’s not a problem.” He added sweetly.

 

“Now, if you’ll excuse me. I want to go and let myself get mauled by my boyfriend in celebration of my new job.” Peter’s nauseated look, and Derek’s smug one were more than worth it as Stiles grabbed his laptop off the desk along with his bag, and dragged the youngest of the Hales out of the office.


	4. Privacy Past

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the amazing reviews! I'm enjoying writing this story immensely, but reviews always make it better ;). Kudos and bookmarks are of course equally appreciated!

Quitting at his other job felt like a relief, but Stiles knows that working with Peter was going to be tough. He had figured that once he became an employee, the man would drop his attitude, but he kept on baiting Derek. The other boxers, while also taunted in the ring, take about half of the verbal lashings Derek gets, but there is no explanation as to why.

 

He had typed in Peter’s name in google once, but he never pressed enter. Somehow it felt like a violation of privacy. Stiles normally has no issues with that, seeing as he’d been reading confidential police files since the day he had learned how to break into his father’s account, but this means that instead of asking Derek personally why his uncle has it out for him, he goes behind his lover’s back. So he doesn’t press enter. He just erases the words, and promises himself that he’ll ask his boyfriend over dinner the next time he has a chance. Only there never seems to be one.

 

Stiles is never particularly hesitant to open his mouth, but the few times he’s even tried to bring Peter up in a conversation, Derek became even more closed off –which Stiles thinks is quite a feat in itself-.

 

The sex has been quite amazing though. The more that Peter seems to lay a claim on Stiles, the more he’s apparently desired by Derek. So maybe he uses it to his advantage a little. Showing perhaps a little more interest in returning Peter’s advances. Nothing that can be considered cheating of course, but he throws a lewd comment or compliment back at Peter every so often, and it drives Derek up the wall. Admittedly, they probably shouldn’t have had sex in Erica’s office. She might work as the physical therapist, with an oath to do no harm, but she certainly has no problem punching people that aren’t patients. She knows how to hit the painful spots like a pro.

 

The casual flirtations have the added bonus of making Peter confused. Well, at first it did at least. After the first few comebacks the man seemed to take it as an invitation to throw more compliments his way. The worst part was that it actually worked. Peter wasn’t interested in actually dating Stiles, of that he was pretty sure, but that didn’t mean he didn’t mean the comments about Stiles having a pretty face. Pretty might not be what he wanted to hear, but it was nice to be noticed. Derek wasn’t oblivious to him, and complimented him more than enough between the sheets, but it was nice to know that it was noticed when he got a new pair of jeans that clung to his ass as if they were made him.

 

“Derek, you’re too slow on your feet.” Stiles commented as he looked from the simulation on his screen, to Derek who was in the ring with one of the other boxers on the team. Boyd wasn’t a guy of many words, but all the air he didn’t use on speaking, was used to punch even harder.

 

“Usually it’s me who shouts insults at him. It’s a pleasant change of pace.” Peter actually smiled at him, before staring back at the ring. “Boyd, don’t go easy on him. He needs to be able to actually knock the air out of you.” They had set up a table next to the ring, Stiles’ laptop installed on it, and them both looking at the results. After a lot of haggling with Danny, he had helped Stiles adapt the program so he could film Derek, and the movements would be isolated and calculated according to Stiles’ algorithm in one go, rather than Stiles doing the work manually.

 

“Derek, shift your weight a little more to the left once you’re throwing the punch, not before you make the move.” That way the added weight thrown in would actually cause a heavier impact. “If you follow it up by throwing your right shoulder back straight after you’ll be out of your opponents immediate reach.”

 

Derek was clearly frustrated with all the yelling, but he knew better than to complain about it. Stiles had explained it, in as simple terms as possible, that the program calculated moves the human body could actually do, so he should be able to perform them in theory. It would just take practice. So far, this was week two, and there was only a marginal improvement to be noticed. Peter had assured him that it simply had to click. Once the movement was ingrained in Derek’s brain, it would be a difficult trick to undo it. Which was why this was such a slow process. They weren’t asking him to do entirely different moves, but he was so used to the way he executed them that breaking the habit was tricky.

 

“Again!” Peter sniped as Derek once more repeated what he’d done the previous ten times. Stiles sighed, pinching his brow.

 

“Derek, wait.” He felt like an idiot climbing up into the ring, nearly tripping over the elastic wiring. He ignored the muttered ‘for gods sake’ from Peter, and approached his boyfriend.

 

“You keep wanting to punch first, move later…you need to do both at the same time. Only not just with your feet.” Stiles tried to explain. “You need to go faster, but your entire body needs to move along. Just throw your punch as if you’re swinging in an entire circle.” Stiles tried to show the move as best as he could in slow-motion, though he was certain his execution was almost worse than Derek’s. Something lit up in those brown eyes though, so perhaps something Stiles had said actually made sense.

 

Peter was right, it just needed to click, but when it did, it was magnificent. They tried the move one more time, and this time Boyd actually staggered backwards. The punch had landed right against the jaw, and Stiles was pretty sure it might have cracked if it wasn’t for the padding they were both wearing.

 

“Yes!” Finally, Derek had gotten it. So maybe it cheer was a bit over the top, but fuck it. His program worked.

 

“Again!” Peter’s lack of emotion almost compensated Stiles’ exuberance. It took him down a peg or two, but Derek repeated the move with almost the same result every time, even when Boyd managed to block it, it still knocked him back a step. It had finally clicked. It would still need repetition for Derek to absolutely perfect it, but the first results were in.

 

“Don’t be such a sour wolf.” Stiles commented once Derek and Boyd had left for the lockers. “He did good, didn’t he? If we can do this with every one of his moves, he can get ten times better.” Derek was already good, but he wasn’t state champion material, but that might change.

 

“We’re not here just for him Stiles. I have a team of six other boxers, all at various stages of their training. My precious nephew just took two hours to learn how to follow some simple orders. Get to work on the others their tapes tomorrow. Perhaps one of them will pick up some simple coaching a lot easier.” The sharp tone took Stiles aback. Peter should be happy to see he hadn’t hired Stiles for nothing, and instead of it he seemed more angry than ever. He had never given anything other than sarcasm and lewd commentary. It was strange.

He let Peter stalk off to their now shared office, while he packed up his laptop and returned the table back to where it had been before. Still, it kept nagging at him. A quick glance at the locker room told him it would be a while before Derek would be out, so he could take a moment to talk to the older Hale without invoking another silent battle between the two.

 

“What exactly is your problem with Derek? You give him more crap than any of your other fighters, and you’re actually angry when he does something right.” Stiles snapped, shutting the office door behind him.

 

“You might be screwing my nephew, but that does not mean you have the right to demand insight into family matters.” If it was possible, the temperature in the room dropped a few degrees with that comeback. The man’s blue eyes reminded Stiles of steel, or perhaps glaciers. There was no positive emotion to be found there.

 

“You’re right, I don’t need to know. You’re just being an ass, and instead of preferential treatment, Derek can practically sue you for verbal abuse.” Peter hadn’t met Stiles if he thought Stiles would drop a subject just because someone was pissed at him.

 

“Derek will not sue, because he knows he deserves every insult he gets. Now get out, your hours are up for today, and I’m not paying you for overtime or to pry into my relationship with my nephew.” Peter might be more verbal than Derek, but he was as vague and annoying as his nephew when Stiles was looking for answers.

 

“You made me part of the problem the moment you started a pissing contest with your nephew about me. You don’t get the right to use me to bait Derek just because he irritates you. Derek might not sue you, but don’t forget that I can.” Peter’s face contorted in a snarl, but he said nothing in his own defence. Stiles took a moment to pull himself together, throwing the older Hale an angry look before leaving the office.

 

* * *

 

Derek seemed pleased with himself and Stiles’ work though, and for the first time in a long while, they had a nice night together that didn’t involve silences that were forcibly filled with movies or sex. Dinner was filled with conversation, mostly from Stiles’ side, but Derek paid attention to what he was saying. The program and its possibilities seemed to interest him, even if he didn’t understand the workings behind it. Derek might not hold much interest in calculations, but he knew the team. He’d been there from the very start, and he could already give Stiles some insight into their weaker points in the ring.

 

Aside from Derek, Boyd and Scott, there were Kira and Allison. Both excellent fighters in the female rankings. Allison was new to the team, so there wasn’t much Derek could tell about her, other than the fights he had seen when she’d still been part of the Argent gym. Pretty and delicate looking until you gave her some gloves and a chance to vent her frustrations. It wasn’t much of a surprise to find her becoming fast friends with Kira and Lydia. They were women to be feared, and Stiles always laughed his ass off whenever Scott managed to piss one of them off. Lydia would flay him with words, while Kira and Allison would put him flat on his back on the mat. Liam was new, only having come in a month or two after Scott, and absolutely adorable. He still had to develop his own style, but he’d been scouted on raw talent. The same reason Peter was looking into Malia. She was a street fighter with more police arrests than school reports. Her fighting style was crude, and her files not exactly positive, but considering they had video of her taking down a man twice her size, Peter was interested to channel that strength a bit more productively.

 

Peter’s anger kept bothering him though. He knew better than to ruin their night with talk Derek’s uncle, but there had to be a reason that Peter was angry at the guy right? More than the trouble Kate Argent had caused. There seemed no ill will between Laura and Derek, the few times Stiles had been around while they skyped. Derek’s betrayal had caused her to abandon her inheritance of the Hale Gym, so if she could forgive her brother, so should Peter right?

 

Despite his own promises not to do it, Stiles found himself sneaking out of bed after Derek had fallen asleep. The bluish light of the laptop cast a creepy glow around the room, making him feel even more like a stalker as his long fingers moved across the keyboard. He listened carefully for any noise from the bedroom, expecting himself to be caught any second now. The sound of the enter button seemed deafening, but the search engine immediately supplied him with links to articles about Peter Hale, and Stiles simply couldn’t resist.


	5. The key to everything

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More than 10000 words, and I'm still inspired for this story. Your comments have been great, and I hope that I'm forgiven for my cliffhanger with this chapter ;). I do love hearing your theories though, so please keep them coming!

“Will you please stop staring at me?” Stiles averts his eyes immediately, knowing that this isn’t the first time he’s been caught. “I am aware that I am the best thing you’ll see during your day, but it’s distracting me from doing some actual work.” Peter doesn’t seem all that amused by his staring, even if he jokes about it.

 

It’s rather hard not to though. Stiles can’t look at Peter and see him in the same way he had done before. Sure, Peter’s still an arrogant ass, but his anger makes sense now. He doesn’t agree with the grudge the older Hale is harbouring, but he can understand why. Unknowingly his gaze has already wandered back to the other side of the office, trying to see if he could somehow spot the scar, though he knows logically that it’s barely there and invisible from where he’s seated.

 

“Stiles…should I be worried?”  Peter points out again. “You do realise that I did not hire you so you can flatter me with your adoring gaze.”

 

Unlike Stiles, the man seems to have pretty much forgotten about their fight from the other day. Though it was also possible that he was far less interested in getting in Stiles’ good graces. He probably wasn’t all that interesting when he couldn’t be used to annoy Derek.

 

“Why are none of your trophies on the wall? Everyone else their winnings are on there.” Stiles questioned. The previous Hales, the current winners on the team. All the medals, belts and other trophies had been placed in a long protected cabinet on the wall next to the gym. There were some black and white pictures, showing the age of the gym and its existence.

 

Peter’s earlier amusement was gone, replaced by an expressionless look. “They do not need to be there. I don’t need to glorify myself.” Stiles had never been good at keeping away from secrets, and it was rather obvious Peter wasn’t being modest. It was a character trait he simply didn’t possess.

 

“You were their best…You were close to going to the world championships. I’d say that’s a pretty good reason to be in there.” Stiles prodded once more. He had pieced the story together from the articles from the night before, but he wanted to know how much had been correct. Newspaper articles from almost ten years ago were hardly reliable, and he got the feeling parts of it were covered up.

 

“I recommend you drop this subject right now if you wish to keep your job, Stiles.” Peter growled, the emotionless mask slowly cracking.

 

“Why didn’t you go back into the ring? One bad fight, and you just quit?” That was the official story. Peter had gone down hard, and the shame of it had made him disappear for six years, until suddenly he was there to bring back life into the old legendary Gym of the Hale Wolves.

 

“Is that what Derek told you? Is that the story my dear nephew supplied you with?” Another crack, this time a little bigger.

 

“Derek didn’t tell me anything. He doesn’t want to talk about it…it had to do with Kate Argent right? I mean…the timing fits…” Whatever theory Stiles had come up with, he wasn’t allowed to expand on it as Peter cut him off, the mask crumbling right in front of Stiles, leaving cold fury in its wake.

 

“Of course it has to do with the Argent woman.” He sneered. “Derek was so enamoured with her that he told her everything. Our training methods, our weaknesses. I taught the ungrateful snitch everything he knows and he betrayed me by telling her about my shoulder injury. It wasn’t a permanent weakness, but it wasn’t going to be healed before my fight, and he just blabs about it.” There is the sound of a pencil breaking, and Stiles can see the two halves in Peter’s clenched fists, but he’s too interested in the story to actually comment on it.

 

“So she leaked the information to your opponent…” Once started, Peter apparently couldn’t shut up. Clearly this frustration had been building for a while.

 

“Yes, their own star fighter. Part of the Argent pack, though not an Argent himself. She told him exactly how I would be weaker on my right side. I managed three rounds before I got knocked against the temple. I went out, and I woke up four years later in the long term care ward. They couldn’t let everyone know that their best had been taken out like that by a betrayal within the family. That boxing is a dangerous sport. So they made me disappear. My own family rather would have everyone believe that I disappeared out of shame, than because I was in a coma.”

 

Yeah, Stiles could see why that would piss someone off. Losing a fight honourably was one thing, but to have everyone believe you were a sore loser, that had to have hurt. Peter wasn’t finished yet: “If I had won that match, I would have gone to the world championships. Do you know what three years in bed does to your muscles? Do you, Stiles?”

 

“Yeah…I watched my mom waste away in a hospital bed…I know what it does.” It wasn’t pretty. At the end of her sickbed, she had so little strength left that she could barely squeeze his hand.

 

“I was in my thirties when I woke up. It took me three years to be able to be able to throw a couple of punches without being out of breath. I could have made a name that could have been on the wall proudly, instead here I am coaching my nephew, who takes five times longer than I would have had to learn those moves. He doesn’t have it in him to become a real champion, yet here he is, while I lost my career for a nice piece of ass.” The man seemed winded and downright tired, though he tilted his head up as if waiting for Stiles’ judgement. That this verbal explosion would have a hard backlash.

 

Stiles would have wanted to argue that Derek had been a kid. That Kate Argent had been a manipulative bitch with only one goal in mind, but how could he? How could he defend Derek’s choices when Peter had lost some of the best years of his life, and definitely the best of his career. Stiles didn’t think that Peter’s jealousy would help their relationship, but he had seen the pictures of Peter being carried out of the ring on a stretcher, face drawn and pale. Right after seeing the articles about his victories, where he was smiling and holding up his trophies in pride.

 

“I still think that your trophies deserve to be up there, because you earned those winnings, even if the end of your career was bad.” He gnawed on his lip, trying to figure out what to say. “I can’t defend what Derek did, I will not agree with it, and what happened to you sucks…but you’ve got a chance to bring the Hale Gym to victory. I’ve been looking through all these tapes, and I’ve seen the data…with my program and your actual knowledge of the moves, they can go far.” He swivelled his chair around so he could properly face Peter, who was still behind the desk.

 

“You might not be able to fight yourself, but that’s your work out there. They follow your training schedule, your coaching. That’s your work when they go into the ring. You couldn’t take that championship yourself, but maybe you can take one of your team there.” Stiles knew that Derek did have potential, and Scott definitely could become the best. Kira and Allison would do great in the female boxing matches. The Hale Gym could be restored to its old glory.

 

Peter cocked his head, his earlier black mood slowly evaporating. “For someone so uninterested in boxing, you certainly have become an advocate for this team.”

 

“Well, what can I say. I have a thing for Hales apparently.” Stiles grinned, giving a shrug. “What are you going to do about it?” The laugh it pulled out of Peter was completely worth it.

 

 

* * *

 

“Okay, listen up everyone. Stiles will be your new trainer.” Peter called out when everyone had finally gathered for their impromptu meeting. He had worked with Peter almost non-stop for the past two weeks, getting their new plan on the road. He was tired, and Derek was irritated, but it was completely worth it.

 

“These documents are your personal files. Stiles has analysed your wins, your losses and determined what your strengths and weaknesses are. You will work with him to determine how you can improve the moves you already have. I will still be the one coaching you on different techniques, Stiles will help you perfect them.” Peter continued, leaving Stiles to hand out the personalised booklets he’d made for everyone.

 

“Every day, one of you will spend a few hours with Stiles working on what’s in your file, aside from that you’ll follow my schedule like usual. From now on every match will be analysed afterwards with Stiles’ program and my own input. Keep those booklets with you, because they will expand with every match you fight. Any questions?”

 

“Will Stiles be joining us for the press rounds after fights?” Kira was seated on the edge of the ring, Allison leaning against it next to her. Everyone seemed interested, but also a little hesitant about Stiles being any help to them. He couldn’t blame then considering he was anything but a boxer physically speaking.

 

“I’m not actually. We would like you to keep my program and this new training idea to yourselves. As far as I know, there isn’t any other gym that has this, and we would like to stay ahead of them. If we talk about this, it means someone will either recreate or steal the program, but either way, we could lose an advantage.” He wasn’t all that interested in the press anyways. Peter could take all the credit like the peacock he was. Stiles just liked that he could help Scott and Derek, and be part of the gym instead of sitting on the side-lines.

 

They were dismissed soon after, leaving Stiles free to talk to Derek after having gotten some celebratory hugs and punches from Scott. “So…does this mean you’re finally going to have time to have dinner with me again?” Derek waved the booklet in his face a little.

 

“Derek, I had to run that data on several different players. I’m not going to apologize for taking so long.” Stiles scoffed, moving to grab his bag, catching Peter staring at them from the open door of the office, though he looked away when Stiles caught his eye.

 

“I know, but it’s been boring with you going to your own apartment every night after you’re done.” Derek huffed. Strong arms wrapped around Stiles’ waist, distracting him from Peter as the younger Hale nuzzled his neck, making him laugh.

 

“I would have gone to yours if it wouldn’t mean waking you up. Your bed is nicer and closer to the gym.” Derek also hated being woken up before his alarm went off –which Stiles didn’t get considering his alarm went off at six on most days-, so he hadn’t bothered going to his boyfriend’s place at two in the morning when he had finally left the gym.

 

“I know. I would have probably left you standing outside if you had rang the doorbell.” Derek agreed easily. “Which is probably why you should have this…” A key popped up in front of Stiles’ face, making his mouth fall open.

 

“Seriously, you’re giving me a key to your place?” Sure, things had been going alright between them, aside from Stiles’ busy days, but it hadn’t even been…oh, their anniversary was today. Time had flown by since he'd started his project, and he'd completely forgotten about it. Thankfully they weren't all that sentimental, and he was pretty sure that Derek would forgive him if he came by with good food and the promise of sex. 

 

“Well, then I’ll be sure to show up tonight with your gift…” Stiles smirked, plucking the key from Derek’s fingers. He was vaguely aware of the office door being slammed shut, but he was too distracted by his boyfriend’s lips to pay attention.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys liked it!


	6. A seed is planted

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you once more to all the amazing reviews I've gotten. I dedicate this chapter to FEQinhell for recomending my fic on tumblr. You are all amazing though, and every kudo, bookmark and review is extremely appreciated! I'm nearing the 15000 word mark on this story, lets see if I can reach at least 25000.

Stiles hadn’t expected much to change other than his schedule after the meeting, but there was noticeably more respect this time around. Sure, he had been introduced as a new co-worker, even if most had heard one way or another that Derek’s boyfriend suddenly worked from Peter’s office, but he hadn’t been part of the gym. Most of them weren’t full time boxers. Like Scott they had other jobs or studies to keep them busy, but they did form a tight knit group. Even Lydia, who wasn’t a boxer, was invited along to drinks with the team.

 

Stiles, despite having been there for a few months already, hadn’t been asked once. Somehow, working from Peter’s office, had given him a place in limbo. He worked for the gym, he was at the gym, but he wasn’t part of the team. Now he was steadily being regarded as something other than ‘Derek’s boyfriend’ or ‘Scott’s friend’. His program helped them get better, and having a few hours every week to work one on one had done more than improve their moves, it had made him essential to the team.

 

What he hadn’t anticipated that he’d somehow had become one of the girls. Well, not that that was much of an insult as they were as deadly as the guys, but being dragged along for shopping sprees had not been in his contract.

 

“This colour works really well on you.” Lydia hummed, tugging on the shirt she had put him in to make sure it fit right. Kira, who was currently trying on a jacket, nodded in agreement.

 

“Does that mean I don’t have to change outfits again?” Lydia’s stamina when it came to shopping would outshine any of the boxers in the ring.

 

“Come on Stiles, Derek will not keep his hands of you in those jeans.” Allison whistled, stepping out of her own dressing room.

 

“I don’t need different jeans for that.” Stiles huffed, though he had to admit he looked really good in the outfit the girls had selected. He had known Lydia for years, and he trusted her fashion sense. That didn’t mean he was planning to burn his plaids like she had suggested.

 

“Oh we know sweetie, those marks on your neck speak volumes…unless there is someone else putting those hickeys there.” Three pairs of eyes zeroed in on him, and he wondered if this was what it was like to face a firing squad.

 

“What are you implying? Of course it’s Derek.” Sure, Stiles wasn’t that unpopular when he went to clubs –until he opened his mouth most of the time-, but he’d barely had time between collecting data and trying to be an attentive boyfriend.

 

“Well, Peter’s been eyeing you like you’re his next meal. You two do work a lot together.” Kira tossed in casually, as if it was a regular thing to accuse a guy of sleeping with his lover’s uncle.

 

“I think you three need to stop reading those romantic novels or whatever else it is that gave you that idea. Peter just likes to piss Derek off. You know how he is…besides, he’s Derek’s uncle, and could have been my dad…that’s just wrong.” He refused to even admit to himself that maybe he had wondered about Peter in a less than professional manner once or twice.

 

“That doesn’t make him ugly. Come on Stiles, he’s a fox.” Allison chuckled, collapsing on one of the couches between dressing rooms, staring him down. “Besides, he also stares at you when Derek isn’t around.”

 

This was getting uncomfortable. He wondered if they’d drop the subject if he promised to try on all the outfits they wanted him to try on. “Of course he stares. He still believes I’m going to screw up probably.” That was a downright lie, but he wasn’t going to even consider the possibility that Peter might be looking at him in a different way.

 

“You didn’t deny that he’s hot though…” Kira smirked, also taking a seat on the couch. “And I know you don’t hate him. You two were actually laughing in the office yesterday.”

 

He threw up his hands. “Of course he’s hot. I’m pretty sure even Derek would agree to that. I’m taken however. I love Derek. Peter is alright. He has a good sense of humour.” And a sharp mind, and a very nice body, and he could actually be nice every once in a while when he ordered take-out for Stiles as well during long nights, or brought him coffee without asking.

 

“Look, sweetheart, we know you love Derek, and that you two are serious…but we’re not the only one noticing you and Peter getting along.” Lydia made him turn around as she added a jacket to the outfit, making it go from casual, to something more suitable for a high fashion date.

 

“We work together. We plan your schedules. Of course we get along! I wouldn’t have accepted the job if I couldn’t stand him. It’s not like you guys hate him.” Stiles pointed out, finding the fact that this was all based on them getting along rather idiotic.

 

“It’s not like that. Peter is our trainer. We respect him, and he’s a good coach, but it’s not like we take him shopping…I don’t think I’ve heard him laugh like ever.” Kira glanced at the other girls to see if they disagreed.

 

“We share the same kind of humour, that doesn’t make me want to jump him or vice versa.” Stiles scoffed, heading back into his dressing room to get out of the clothes Lydia had picked for him.

 

“No, it doesn’t…but just be careful Stiles. Peter and Derek’s relationship is already tense. The last thing we need is for those two to really go at one another.” Lydia cautioned. “So perhaps you should make it clear to Peter that you’re not interested in him, before he gets the wrong idea.”

 

“So what? It’s my fault now? Everyone knows I’m with Derek. If Peter has a problem with that it’s him that’s his problem. I love Derek, and Peter can go screw himself.” If there was a small lurch of Stiles’ heart as he said those words, no one needed to know. He had something good with Derek, and he wasn’t going to throw it away for a maybe.

* * *

 

Despite his exclamation to the girls, Stiles couldn’t quite ignore the seed they had planted in his head. Had they really given everyone the idea that there was something more between them than he had intended? Perhaps it wasn’t Derek’s overactive imagination that made him so damn protective.

 

“Would you like Chinese tonight, Stiles?” Peter hummed as he entered the office, still smelling like the soap he’d used in his shower. There was a match coming up, and Peter had been drilling Allison harder than ever. She wasn’t just representing the gym, it was also a personal vendetta to make her fight better than she had ever done at the Argent gym.

 

“No, I’m not staying. I’ve made plans with Derek to go out to dinner.” He was even wearing the outfit Lydia had picked for him. Considering the looks he had been given, he was going to go on another shopping trip with the girls. He still wasn’t burning his plaid though.

 

“I was under the impression we would be going over the results from Boyd’s recent match?” There was an irritated twitch at the corner of Peter’s mouth, as if he didn’t want to openly scowl at the idea of Stiles leaving for the night.

 

“We can do it tomorrow. I’ve pulled enough long days this week.” He kept himself angled away from Peter as he packed up his things, wanting to get out of the office. The gym was already cleaned and ready to close, it was only them there. Like it had been three out of five days of the week as they discussed results and planned exercises for the boxers.

 

“Which is what I pay you for. You can take next Monday off if you like. We always have a quiet first day after a match.” Stiles tensed at the easy dismissal of his plans.

 

“I make more than enough hours Peter, you can wait on your numbers for one damn day.” So maybe he was a little snappish, but it was no wonder everyone thought he was interested in Peter if he came at the man’s beck and call even when it wasn’t needed.

 

“Do we have a problem Stiles?” It shouldn’t sound as threatening as it does. He knows Peter wouldn’t hit him, but it still sounds like the man is planning to put the head of a horse in his bed later tonight.

 

“I don’t know Peter, do we? Because I get that you treat Derek like an ass, even if I don’t agree with that kind of coping mechanism, but you do realise I’m an actual human being, right? I am in a relationship with your nephew, and I don’t need you to give him a reason to doubt my fidelity.” His laptop was shoved into his bag, but he left it on the chair for a moment, staring Peter down as if he was a wayward child. It probably would be more impressive if Peter didn’t have almost three times the muscle mass Stiles had.

 

“I like you, Stiles, but don’t think for a second that I care about your relationship with Derek.” The icy look in those blue eyes almost willed Stiles to take a step back, but he held his ground. “He does not deserve to be happy, and I think you can do better than my backstabbing relative, but that’s your own poor choice.” Peter closing in on him only increased his wish to move. “I am not to blame for his doubt however. If my nephew worries about your fidelity as you so nicely put it, then that’s something between the two of you. If he trusted you like he should, then there would be no question in his mind that you would never be tempted by the likes of me.”

 

Taking a step back does absolutely nothing, as it only ends up with Stiles pinned against the door, and Peter’s hands on both sides leave him with no room of escape. The worst part is that Stiles isn’t all that sure that he wants to. “Then again, maybe it’s not his own lying nature that makes him distrust you.. “ Peter purred, his voice having suddenly dropped a few bars. Stiles’ eyes flicker for just a moment towards the man’s lips, but it’s all Peter needs to confirm his theory. “…maybe you really are interested…” The gap between them is closed, and Stiles’ reaction is something he couldn’t have stopped even if he wanted to.

 

He knees Peter in the groin, and he watches with a scowl as the man immediately doubles over, groaning in pain. “You might be nice to look at Peter, but you’re an asshole. Just because I’m physically attracted to you, doesn’t mean you have the right to try and kiss me, you jackass.” With a scoff, he grabs his bag and coat of the chair near the desk. “I suggest you put ice on that before you try to molest someone else.”   
  
Peter only grins, even if it’s clear that he’s still in one hell of a lot of pain. “Maybe Stiles, but I don’t think Derek is the only one with doubts…say hi to him for me. Try not to think about this when you’re letting him paw at your body. I’ll be waiting when you change your mind.”

 

“Don’t hold your breath for it.” Slamming the door behind him is not as satisfying as he wants it to be, and it’s only when he’s a block away from the gym that he lets himself crumble and wonder about the way it had felt to have Peter pressed against him. That fucking asshole.


	7. The middle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once more, thank you for the reviews. This chapter is slightly shorter than the previous one (and I'm sorry if the ending seems perhaps a little abrupt), but I'm going out to dinner for my birthday tomorrow and I wanted to make sure a chapter was posted before I left, because I'm not sure if I'll be up for it afterwards. I would also like to know whether you want chapters from Peter's POV too? So far I've only used Stiles, so I'm not sure if it's not going to be just annoying if I switch POV, but I can understand you guys might like the change. So let me know in the comments! Again, thanks for the kudos, comments, and bookmarks. You guys are amazing!

The whole gym is on edge, and everyone knows it’s because of something that happened between Peter and Stiles. Only Lydia seems to know what it’s about, because Stiles has migrated from Peter’s office to hers. Peter refuses to show any kind of reaction to that other than to make the person who asked about it do push-ups until he collapsed.

 

No one understands, but everyone notices it. Especially when Lydia stomps on Peters foot on her way to the coffeemaker. Those sharp heels hurt like hell, and the onlookers can only watch in sympathy –and hidden amusement- as Peter limps to his office. Despite the poking and prodding from Allison and Kira, Lydia doesn’t reveal anything about why Stiles is in her office, or why she’s mad at their coach.

 

“Are you ever going to tell me why you moved out of my uncle’s office?” Stiles is over at Derek’s place, and they’ve collapsed on the couch to watch a movie together. He’s using the younger Hale as a pillow, which means he can also feel how tense Derek gets when he asks about Peter. “Did he do something?”

 

“No, nothing like that…” He hates that he’s lying about that, but he tries to remind himself that Peter never actually got to do something. “He just said some rude things about you, and I figured it wouldn’t hurt to work somewhere else for a while.” It was as close to the truth as Stiles could get without making Derek go off and punch Peter.

 

“I can take care of myself you know. You can trust me.” The older Hale hadn’t been wrong that if Derek didn’t trust him, it was an issue between them, and Peter could be replaced by any other guy or woman and Derek would react the same way.

 

“I know. I’ve just seen the way you fight. I trust you, but I don’t trust others not to take advantage of you.” The pout on Derek’s lips, as if he knows his reactions are over the top, makes Stiles grin.

 

“You do know I’m a cop’s son right? My dad has been teaching me how to respond to threats of sexual assault and physical assaults since he could get away with it behind my mom’s back.” She had never wanted him to know about the depravity of the world, so his father had bribed him with cookies afterward to make sure he wouldn’t tell.  He should have known a kid who liked to talk as much as Stiles would blab anyways. “I might not be able to box, and I’m not the strongest, but I can actually put you flat on your ass if you tried to assault me. It just wouldn’t be legal in the ring.”

 

Stiles isn’t graceful, and he’s not some black belt Krav Maga expert, but he knows how to defend himself. Peter probably had felt his manner of defence for the rest of that night. There is a sheepish smile on Derek’s face that makes it clear that even with that knowledge, he’s probably still going to glare at every guy that comes near Stiles.

 

“I’m not property you need to defend, and I can handle Peter. You’re only falling for his bait.” Which was immensely satisfying for Peter, and frustrating for Stiles.

 

“I don’t trust him Stiles. He’s like the Grinch. He doesn’t care about anyone’s happiness.” Stiles snorts at the comparison. He could see Peter skulking on a mountain muttering angrily about the happy villagers. You just needed to replace the mountain with an office, and the villagers with Derek.

 

“Well…can you blame him being bitter? I mean…he’s told me  what’s happened.” After he’d googled him, but that’s beside the point. Derek is already tensing up, probably ready to dismiss the subject, but then he somehow deflates, and Stiles knows he’s finally going to hear Derek’s side of the story.

 

“I still feel guilty, you know…Laura assures me that it’s not my fault, as do some of the others…but the Hale family has spread out across the States now. All because I told Kate.” Derek mutters. “I’m no longer invited to family gatherings now my parents aren’t there to vouch for me, because a large part of the family hasn’t forgiven me, but I don’t care about that. I…Peter lost everything because of me. I visited him once or twice when he was still in a coma. I wasn’t allowed to go at first, worried reporters might see and piece things together about what had really happened, and after that I just couldn’t sit there and watch him lay there.”

 

There is so much guilt there. Derek’s never been forgiven by Peter, but he’s also never forgiven himself. “Why didn’t you tell the world. I mean…why didn’t your family admit he was in the hospital. That way he wouldn’t have lost his reputation as well.” That was the one thing he couldn’t wrap his head around. Derek being a foolish kid in love, well it was stupid and he deserved some backlash for it, but it was understandable. Wars had been fought over love. Peter being hidden away like he was some kind of dirty secret was not.

 

“I argued about that with Laura, and with our parents, but I think they were right. If they hadn’t…there might not have been a gym for Peter to inherit. The loss of fighters and reputation would have put it under.” Derek shrugs.

 

“You think he cares about that? Besides, as far as I know, Peter didn’t inherit the gym. Laura did, she just didn’t want it anymore.” Stiles argued, sitting up. The flinch tells him that Derek already knew that too, and that his argument was weak and an attempt to justify things in his mind.

 

“You two should really work through your issues. Without getting me involved.” Stiles pointed out dryly. “I don’t care whether that’s with you on your knees begging for forgiveness, or you two going a few rounds in the ring to punch it out, but your coping mechanisms are horrible.” Derek and his family had screwed up on how they had handled everything, and Peter deserved an apology, and he really needed to start forgiving them. “If Peter is the Grinch, you better be Cindy Lou Who and get him off that mountain.”

 

Derek snorts, but doesn’t do anything other than to pull him down for a kiss.  “I’m pretty sure you are Cindy Lou Who Stiles. I’m Martha May Whovier….well, without an incestuous relationship with my Grinch uncle.” They both burst out laughing, and Stiles remembers that while his relationship with Derek isn’t perfect, it’s also not as bad as Peter had made it out to be.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Stiles keeps his distance from Peter, even if he’s supposedly Cindy Lou Who, meant to get the Grinch of his mountain to socialize. It becomes difficult to do however when they’re supposed to be preparing Allison for her match. The Argent was clearly becoming frustrated with Stiles disappearing every time Peter showed up and vice versa.

 

Unexpectedly, it wasn’t Stiles who caved. Considering Peter apparently held grudges way longer than was healthy, he had figured that they would in the end revert to things before Peter had attempted to kiss him. Stiles grudgingly moving back into the office they had shared, refusing to say out loud that he had been defeated. None of that happened.

 

“Stiles. I believe there are some issues we need to resolve.” Stiles twirled around on the office chair he had confiscated from Peter’s office, the too small desk filled with tapes and his laptop. Any chance of escape was ruined by Peter shutting the door to Lydia’s office behind him.

 

“Well that’s the understatement of the year.” So maybe he wasn’t being exactly an adult about the whole thing, but screw it.

 

“I believe I owe you an apology.” Peter started, clearly looking uncomfortable. The words were spat out as if he was ripping off a band-aide. “I should not have attempted to kiss you, or insinuate that your relationship with my nephew is invalid.” Yeah, that probably was pretty painful to say for Peter.

 

“I kicked you in the groin for your sexual assault, so I’ll consider us square, but I’m not some piece of meat between the two of you. I get that Derek screwed up big time, and that it’s not as easy as forgive and forget, but that’s between the two of you. Messing with me just to get at him is both low and it seriously pisses me off.” He wasn’t going to just smile and accept the apology, and clearly Peter was trying not to bite his head off for making things even harder on the man.

“He doesn’t get to be happy.” The answer was terse and petulant.

 

“Is that your plan? On the one hand you’re trying to get him to be the best he can be, while on the other you’re trying to sabotage his life as much as possible? You can’t have it both ways Peter. You can’t want the Hale Wolves get victory, while making sure one of your best fighters is miserable.” Stiles scoffed, staring the older Hale down. He hadn’t slept much the night before, and he was too damn tired for that shit.

 

“I’m not going to say I understand, because your family dynamic is really screwed up, but I’m done being in the middle of it. So either you stop trying to sabotage my relationship, or I’ll hand in my resignation and go somewhere else.” Perhaps a bit drastic, but he was not having all this tension. He liked this job, but he was pretty sure there were other gyms he could apply it to.

 

“You betray the Hales by going to another gym, and I’ll make sure you’re never found.” Stiles raised an eyebrow, daring Peter to test him. “As I recall I was not the only one throwing salacious remarks at the other.”

 

“No, and I have no problem with those, as long as you know that I want nothing more than friendship from you. I’ve enjoyed your company Peter, but your attempts to seduce me away from Derek are rather obvious.” Peter’s flirtatious comments were fun, and a great boost of self-confidence. Stiles liked that easy humour, as long as Peter knew that there was a line that wasn’t going to be crossed.

 

“You wish to be friends? I am not in the habit of making friends with my employees.” It was a surprisingly painful statement, seeing as Peter seemed to pretty much live from the gym, and everyone in there was pretty much an employee. Though maybe he had an active social life after he left the place.   

 

“Well, you’ve been in the habit of making exceptions for me. I like to think it’s my glorious wit, but the girls say it’s my fantastic ass in these jeans.” There is a twitch of Peter’s lips.

 

“Don’t flatter yourself Stiles, I’ve seen better.” And just like that, they’re back to normal, if there ever was such a thing.


	8. Handing in my resignation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks once more for the lovely reviews. I've decided to stick with Stiles' POV because I realised that if I were to give you Peter's, I would give away some things I like to keep for later in the story. This way you have to keep guessing at Peter's side of things, just like Stiles does. I am planning to perhaps add a couple of one shots of things that have already been mentioned in the story from Peter's POV, like their first meeting for instance. Not sure whether I'll add those at the end, or in between, and how many there will be, but they are an idea I'm toying with at least.

There is a thrill in the air that gets even Stiles a little pumped as they make their way through the crowd to find their places near the ring. Peter’s in the lockers with Allison, prepping her for her big fight, but he would soon join the rest of the team that had come to support her at the front line. On the other side of the ring there are some familiar faces, as Stiles has started to pay more attention to the team’s opponents.

 

“Are you ready to see some blood. Allison can’t stand her.” Kira grins at him, as if it’s the best thing in the world to see two women punch each other in the face. Then again, for her it probably is.

 

“What’s the history between them then?” He questions, not being able to see Allison’s opponent as she too is in the back getting ready.

 

“Not much really, other than the fact that she tried to make a move on Scott during a night out.” If Stiles thought Derek was territorial, Allison and Scott were even worse. They were both a bit clingy though, so apparently they liked that trade in one another. They had horrible fights, and even worse make-ups for everyone having to watch them.

 

“What did I miss?” Scott pops up beside him, carrying several beers and snacks, which are grabbed at eagerly by the rest of the team. Not everyone is there. Boyd and Erica couldn’t make it, and Lydia finds fights vulgar. Stiles would like to stick with Lydia on that one, but unfortunately he also is stuck with needing to be there to film Allison. He doesn’t need to be at every fight, but Peter made it clear that he needs to be at every one that he can make it to.

 

“Not much, they’re just showing the statistics.” There are screens displaying the fighters and their current scores. Scott’s timing is perfect however, because soon enough the referee climbs into the ring with a microphone to start the real introductions, getting the crowd all riled up. By the time Allison gets on, Stiles is yelling along with the rest of them, sloshing beer over the side of his cup as he waves his arms around in support for their team member.

 

“If you spill beer on that camera, it’s coming out of your pocket.” Peter points out tersely, joining them at the side after helping Allison ‘Silver Arrow’ Argent into the ring. He’s not drinking, or eating any of the snacks. There is nothing but focus on the match, and Stiles feels a little guilty for acting like it’s a wild night out. He’s on the job as well. It’s not just supporting her, he needs to pay attention.

 

Unfortunately, paying attention also means seeing the way her neck snaps to the right after a hard right hook. The blood of her opponent when Allison gets her own blow in, splitting the girl’s lip. No matter how often he’s seen the guys and girls at the gym go at each other, it still makes him squeamish. The sport is about as safe as it’s going to get, and they know what they’re getting into, but he can’t help but think of all the things that can go wrong. Allison goes down after a nasty blow, and he can see Peter tense, along with everyone else, as there are a few seconds of little movement. She gets up again though, and while the gong sounds to end that round, there is also a release of their collective breaths being held as Allison gives them a grin when she moves to her corner. Well, as much as one can grin with a protective piece of silicone in your mouth.

 

The fight is brutal, and they’re well matched. Stiles wants to help a little more than just standing there filming the match, but Peter tells him to stay put and not draw too much attention. If the other team believes Stiles to be doing something extremely important, they’ll start digging into why he’s there. It’s Allison who delivers the winning blow, which Stiles feels a smidgeon of pride for, because it’s the one they worked the hardest on improving. The crowd goes wild as they count down, and find the opponent not getting up, and he’s cheering along with the rest of them, while Peter and Scott head up to the edge to help Allison down after the deserved applause. She looks a mess, but Stiles knows that aside from bruising and sore muscles, there’s nothing wrong with her. It makes it easier to keep that feeling of euphoria with the team, as they manage to make their way outside to wait for her in the cooling night air.

 

“Derek?” The voice is female, and he catches various looks of the rest of the team as his boyfriend turns to see a very beautiful woman coming at them. She looks just as deadly as she looks beautiful, a leather jacket that’s pulled tight around her body, showing off some amazing curves.

 

“Braeden, what are you doing here?” Derek’s smiling. The kind of smile that Stiles sees only every once in a while when they’ve had amazing sex and have managed to stay awake afterwards to talk.

“I came back from New York. I decided I missed Beacon Hills and its surroundings too much. I work for Sports Magazine here, so I cover fights like these.” Braeden gives Derek a hug, and Stiles feels like he’s not even there as Derek returns it for what seems like ages. “I did plan to come by at the gym sooner, but I’ve been so busy with moving and getting settled into the new job. How have you been?” They’ve let go of one another, but the way she’s still casually touching him makes something uneasy settle in Stiles’ stomach.

 

“I’ve been doing good…really good…I’ve got my next match in two weeks on Saturday. You should come.” Derek is still smiling at her as if he can’t stop.

 

Stiles gives a small cough, hoping it will grab Derek’s attention. Everyone else seems to know who Braeden is, and he’s not only feeling out of the loop, but somehow also horribly humiliated as his own boyfriend seems to forget he’s standing right there. Derek doesn’t immediately take the hint, so Stiles holds  out his own hand. “Hi, I’m Stiles, Derek’s boyfriend. I don’t think we’ve met…” His grin is full of teeth, and he hates that she doesn’t seem to be the least bit threatened by it.

 

“Hi, I’m Braeden, and don’t worry about Derek, he often forgets the rules of politeness.” Her smile is kind, if slightly guarded, and he’s finding it very hard not to like her. “I’m sure he hasn’t told you about me, but we dated for only a little while before I left for New York four years ago.” The openness of that statement kind of knocks Stiles on his ass. He had a feeling that she might be one of Derek’s exes, but he figured that Derek might end up telling him after a lot of poking and prodding. It makes him like her, which also makes him hate her at the same time.

 

“Yes, I figured it was something like that. Well, if you’re covering our team, I’m sure we’ll see a lot of each other. I look forward to getting to know you.” His smile is a tad more genuine this time, but he’s grateful when Allison comes out of the building, freshly showered and ready to receive her compliments and head home with the rest of them. That night Stiles fucks Derek into the mattress, wanting to lay a claim on him much like Derek had done when it was Peter threatening his position.

 

* * *

 

 

He knows that he had been annoyed with Derek being jealous of Peter, but he can’t help but stare as Derek and Braeden are laughing together. She apparently was an amateur boxer, and currently she was in the ring with Stiles’ boyfriend, holding her own like a pro. Amateur his ass.

 

“Green isn’t a good colour for you Stiles.” Peter smirks from where he’s seated at the desk, looking through some of the numbers Lydia had provided him with to add to the books. Stiles knows Peter is throwing his own jealousy in his face, and is enjoying every second of it.

 

“You were already running the gym when they were dating, what do you know about her?” He questions, shutting the usually open door of the office so he doesn’t have to look at them anymore.

 

Peter raises an eyebrow, leaning back in his chair. “What makes you think I take an interest in Derek’s affairs?” When Stiles just gives him an ‘don’t even try’ look, he concedes. “They went to school together, started dating a few years after graduation…Derek was already planning to move in with her after a few weeks, that idiot, when she was offered the job in New York. I’ve never seen him act more stupid in the ring than when he was all lovelorn. It was pathetic really.”

 

“Yes, they look really pathetic together..” Stiles mutters, slumping down in his own chair. Derek and Braeden looked like those fitness couples that could promote sportswear. A genetic lottery, and from what he could tell, she had brains, beauty and could literally kill with her body. For weeks now she was dropping by at the gym. She had gotten a membership, and spent hours training with Derek. They had even started to go jog together in the morning when Stiles was being lazy in bed.

 

“For what it’s worth, as much as I detest my nephew’s loyalty to the family business…he’s not the kind to cheat.” Peter offered in his own unhelpful way of trying to be kind. This friendship between them had a lot of moments of Stiles reading between the lines to know that Peter meant well, even if he was incapable of saying nice things without wrapping it around in an insult, or in this case confirming Stiles’ fear he had the right to feel threatened.

 

He wasn’t actually jealous. Well, he was, but not of Derek’s relationship with her. More of the fact that she had a chemistry with him that Stiles seemed to need to force into existence between him and Derek. It wasn’t jealousy, it was being resigned. He didn’t like admitting to mistakes or giving up, but Braeden worked with Derek in a way he never could. Even now, with working at the gym, Stiles still couldn’t really find a click with the younger Hale. Every conversation they had was about the gym nowadays, and Stiles, while enjoying his work, wanted more than sex and conversations about where they both spent their days.

 

The resignation that he was simply waiting for the moment that Derek asked his key back was frustrating. He knew he could end it. He knew he could call it quits and walk away, but he liked having someone around to share a bed with. He liked that he wasn’t single anymore. They were nearing one and a half years of a pretty decent relationship, and ending it meant also admitting failure.

 

“Stiles, for what it’s worth, you can do better than Derek. I’ve never believed you two to be suitable.” Peter drawled, his blue eyes never leaving Stiles’ face, and he seemed to have already realised what Stiles was considering.

 

“Peter, I swear, if you plan on giving me the ‘I told you so’ speech right now I’m going to give you every dirty detail of my sex-life with Derek.” He warned, narrowing his eyes at the smug looking man. Considering he was basically already admitting out loud that he was going to end things, he sighed, knowing dinner that night was going to be awkward. “Just so we’re clear. You’re going to be my wingman. I can’t take Scott with him being attached to the hip with Allison, so I’ll be dragging you to every gay bar in town until I’ve found a suitable replacement for your nephew.”

 

“Do I actually get a say in this?” There is an amusing quirk of the lips that tells Stiles the man is not nearly as opposed to the idea as he probably should be.

 

“Nope. You’ll be my awesome wingman, and slightly creepy protector against perverts.” He smirked, already feeling slightly more cheered up at the thought of taking Peter to the various gay bars across town.  


	9. It's time to admit it

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks once more for the lovely reviews! I can't believe I'm near a hundred comments already, and almost 20000 words. It's been a great week. I wanted to point you guys to an amazing piece of work by Iambluebelle on tumblr, which actually inspired this fic. I'm sure Steter fans on tumblr have already seen her work, but it's amazing.

                                                               

 

In the end, Stiles doesn’t do it that night. Derek is cheerful, and they’re having fun. It feels wrong to end things when it seems to be going so well. Braeden isn’t around, and Stiles can almost convince himself he was just being stupid and there was nothing to worry about at all. Only he isn’t. Derek’s gone again the next morning, with a sweet note telling Stiles that they’re going for a run, and he’ll head over to the gym immediately afterwards for a shower, so he doesn’t need to wait for him with breakfast.

 

The note ends with ‘love you’ and Stiles knows Derek means it. No matter what mistakes have been made, Derek does love him. It makes packing up the things he’d left behind at Derek’s during the course of the past few months hurt. This being the right decision, doesn’t make it an easy one. Not by a long shot.

 

He doesn’t do something as dramatic as leaving his key on the table for Derek to find, or some heartfelt apology. He plans to tell Derek face to face. Making sure that the little things are wrapped up and moved back to his own place is only to make things a little easier for them both. Stiles revels in the hugs and kisses he gets at the gym when he arrives, knowing full well they’ll be the last he’ll get.

 

“I think we should talk…” Stiles starts that night, their dinner already finished, and they’re sipping on their coffees. Derek immediately knows that this isn’t going to be fun. “I think it’s time we admit failure and move on.”

 

“Stiles? Is this about Braeden? I’m not in love with her you know…” Derek looks so confused and hurt, and it makes Stiles’ heart ache all over again. He thought he’d be fine with it once he’d resigned himself to the truth that they were never meant to be.

 

“I know you aren’t…and I’m not saying you’ll end up with her or anything, but you two have chemistry Derek. You know we’ve always had to work harder at our relationship than we should have to.” Stiles argues, and he can tell Derek knows he’s right.

 

“Chemistry doesn’t mean anything. I’ll stop spending time with her if that helps…we can do more things outside of the gym.” Derek frowns for a moment. “Or is this about Peter…? You two have been awfully cosy…”

Stiles cuts him off. “I’ll stop you right there before you’re going to say something you’ll regret. It’s not about Peter or Braeden, but I think we’ve just been too fucking stubborn to admit that we’re never going to work. What are we supposed to do outside of the gym Derek? You’re not interested in anything I enjoy, and every hobby you have that’s not related to the gym makes me die of boredom.”

 

“So why did you stay then? I love you, doesn’t that matter?” Of course it did. It was what made this so fucking hard.

 

“Derek, we’re not…we’re not compatible long term. If I hadn’t started working at the gym, we wouldn’t even have made it to the point of you giving me your key.” He shook his head. “Look, I’ve made up my mind…I would like us to be friends at some point, and if you move on with Braeden or someone else, I’ll be happy for you. I’ve already informed Peter I’ll be taking two weeks away from the gym, so we can both have a break.” Standing up, he places the key on the table. “I love you, Derek…I just don’t think it’s going to be enough for us.”

 

There is no kiss goodbye. Stiles leaves, ignoring Derek’s pleas, heading straight for a local bar. He deserves a drink. He’s not surprised to find there are no missed calls when he gets home. Derek was stubborn, just like him, but he knew Stiles well enough to know he wouldn’t change his mind once the decision was made.

 

 

* * *

 

“Can I recommend you not dating any more of my boxers.” Peter comments, handing Stiles his coffee as they head into the park for a walk. “Derek has been awfully mopey. Even I don’t have the heart to poke fun at his expense.”

 

“My sincerest apologies for inconveniencing you.” Stiles deadpans, sipping his sweet concoction. Stiles had invited Peter for a coffee on a whim, and to his surprise the man had actually agreed. It was in the name of friendship, mind you, but he simply hadn’t expected Peter knowing what downtime even was. His impromptu vacation still had ten days left, but Stiles was bored already. Scott had exams so there was no distraction there, and he didn’t want to ask any of the other fighters. He didn’t want to talk about why he broke up with Derek. Peter already knew, and they were friends of sorts, so why not?

 

“Yes, I do expect you working overtime to make up for it.” Peter sniffs, tilting his head back as if he’s too good for Stiles. It makes Stiles nearly snort coffee through his nose. Vain bastard.

 

“So what is it you do when you’re not punching younger people into submission?” They’ve discussed books, some art and music, but he doesn’t know what Peter does when he’s not at the office.

 

“I rule hell.” It comes out with such a straight face it sets Stiles off again, and Peter waits in amusement for him to collect himself. “I actually enjoy going to a nearby café. It has a very nice jazz band playing there regularly. Just because I used to pay the rent by fighting, doesn’t mean I’m uncultured.”

 

“Of course I didn’t think you were.” Stiles shrugs. “It’s hardly to act so superior to everyone if you don’t know what you’re talking about. It would damage your image not to know things.” Peter rolls his eyes, but he doesn’t dispute the fact that he also likes to contradict the stereotype of all brawn and no brain just so he can act morally superior to everyone else.

 

They end up going to a local art gallery after their walk, making fun of the weird pieces of art by finding the most ridiculous descriptions for them. He’s fairly certain that the owner of the gallery would have liked to throw them out, but he needed a good laugh. While the break-up had been the right choice, and Stiles had done the ditching, it didn’t mean he was particularly cheerful. Sleeping alone in his bed, bringing a box of Derek’s things by at the gym. Peter’s company was highly appreciated.

 

He doesn’t want to go out to the gay bars that he had joked with Peter about, because he still feels there is a bit of a mourning period to be had. These two weeks are to let them both recover, and after that he plans to move on with his life.  He does see Peter though. The man drags him to various places in the city he hasn’t seen before, and introduces him to the world of jazz. Stiles on his turn makes Peter try different restaurants, and forces him to read various books that are simply must reads in Stiles opinion if you want to call yourself well-read.

 

They put forth challenges, and Stiles really does feel like Peter’s his friend. He actually knows the guy from more than just the office, and it’s nice. He hadn’t realised how few friends he still had left. Sure, there are the girls, and Scott, but Scott’s busy, often with Allison, and they’ve all gotten their own lives to lead, and having Peter there to mess around with whenever he gets bored is great. It helps that the man is quit the insomniac, as is Stiles, so when he gets fed up with lying in bed trying to sleep, he can call him.

 

That doesn’t mean they only hang out with one another. Lydia comes along to one of the Jazz nights, and apparently Peter knows his fashion, because soon enough Peter joins on their shopping trips to hand out advice. Telling Stiles he will not be seen with a badly dressed guy in plaids when they do go to the gay clubs. The girls find it hilarious that Stiles has been able to rope their surly boss into a night out, until they realise they can’t come to the all men’s bar.

 

* * *

 

Those two weeks seem to fly by, and he almost forgets why coming back to the gym wasn’t going to be easy. Derek’s there, and judging by the look Stiles gets, he’s not quite ready to be friends. There is a nod of acknowledgement though, and he’ll take it. He’s moving on with his life, as painful as it is, and he’ll give Derek the space to do the same. This break-up was somewhat mutual. Stiles simply had more time to prepare.

 

“There is work to do, Stiles. Stop moping about my nephew and get your ass into gear.” Peter orders, shutting the door to the office on his way out. There is a fresh cup of coffee for him on the desk though, with enough sugar for Stiles to enjoy drinking it.

 

“Aye, aye, captain.” Stiles mutters with a grin, taking the coffee and getting to work on sorting through the work that had piled up these past two weeks. There were new tapes to be reviewed, old ones still to be processed, and Malia had finally joined the gym. She was apparently skittish, and not one for playing by the rules, but she had some skills.

 

If Stiles ends up leaving Post-its on Peter’s lamp with new book recommendations, the older Hale doesn’t say a thing about it when he comes into the office to retrieve some things. The only response Stiles gets is another post-it being stuck to the back of his head when Peter smacks it lightly. He doesn’t realise it’s there until Allison points it out, pulling it from his hair with a grin. It’s a recipe Stiles apparently needs to try. She’s amused, Stiles is just plotting revenge as he helps her practice.

 

He finds his chance the first night they do go out. Peter has picked him up in his car, seeing as Stiles was planning to get laid. He thanks the man by patting him on the shoulder as they enter the club. The music is loud, and Stiles knows he’s going to enjoy himself. Peter is already heading for the bar, making many eyes turn. Sometimes Stiles forgets just how hot Peter is. Well, no, that’s a lie, he already knows that. He just forgets how much other people know that Peter is a catch.

 

The fact that Peter had a nice build, and the self-confidence fitting a champion makes the crowd almost part for him. Stiles wouldn’t have been surprised if people suddenly started kneeling in reverence. He tries to catch up with Peter quickly, before the crowd closes in again. “Stiles, I think I can manage myself just fine. If you plan to get laid tonight, you may want to actually look available.” So maybe Peter has a point there. Sidling up to a handsome man at the bar did not give off the vibe of interested and single to anyone but Peter.

 

A few shots of vodka later and he was having fun alright. He had danced with several guys already, gyrating along with the music, and feeling various levels of interest against his backside. When he looks up to check in on Peter at the bar, the man is holding up the yellow post-it note, crumbling it when Stiles makes eye-contact. Next to Peter there is a younger guy on the barstool, eagerly scooting closer to the man. Seemed like Stiles’ note had worked. He didn’t see what Peter was complaining about. He was an older, lonely guy, looking to have some fun with a younger guy. Stiles was an awesome wingman. Maybe they would both get laid tonight.

 


	10. Consensual

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woo! Past a 100 comments and I've made it to 20k words. Thank you guys all so much for commenting, kudos, and bookmarking this fic! I figured seeing as I've passed this milestone, I could add the first drabble in the series from Peter's POV. The name of the series is still up for debate (but I was feeling unimaginative), so please send me title ideas if you have a good one! Anyways, here is the next chapter ^^.

“So…how about another drink at my place?” Stiles has found a rather nice looking guy to entertain himself with, and after some dancing that seemed more like dry-humping than actually enjoying the music, they’ve migrated to one edge of the bar to get some drinks. He’s not particularly interesting, but he doesn’t need to be. Stiles isn’t looking for anything serious. He just wants some fun. He’s more than a little drunk, and everything feels fuzzy and good.

 

“Stiles, darling, there you are. I’m ready to go home now.” Peter is winding his arms around Stiles’ waist, and tugging him close. Stiles is too drunk to really get what Peter is doing though.

 

“Peter! Hi! This is Mark? Marco…Mario?...well someone with an M.” He replies cheerfully, trying to introduce his future shag to his friend.

 

“It’s Maurice, and I was not aware this was an invitation for a threesome.” The man leaves abruptly, and Peter can’t help but snort at the pout on Stiles’ face.

 

“Let’s go home Stiles. You’re drunk, and you would have seriously regretted having a guy named Maurice fuck you.” Peter pulls him up from his bar chair, and they carefully make their way through the crowd, Stiles inebriation not helping.

 

“Who says he would get to top?” It’s probably not the point he should be the most concerned with, but somehow it is. “Derek didn’t always top either you know.”

 

“Stiles, for all that is holy, please do shut up about your love life with my nephew. You would make an excellent top, if that’s what it takes to make you shut up.” Peter grunts as Stiles suddenly moves in to nuzzle his neck. He always got handsy when he was drunk.

 

“I’m a fantastic top….wait, did you have fun?” He questioned, his mind already on something other than his sex positions.

 

“Yes, I especially liked your advertisement you stuck on my back. Honestly Stiles, Older guy looking for twink to have a good time?” Stiles gives a snort at Peter’s face as he’s helped out of the club and into the man’s car.

 

“Well isn’t that what you’re looking for?” Stiles pats Peter’s face as he leans over him to attach his belt buckle, clearly not trusting Stiles to do it himself.

 

“Is that what you think? That I’m some old pervert preying on younger men?” The warm air of the car and the lack of music makes Stiles a little drowsy.

 

“No…you’re just hot…you can date younger.” It’s a shoddy logic, but it had just seemed like a fun joke at the time. “I don’t like you being lonely..” His words are slurred, and his eyes are already feeling heavy. There is no reply from Peter’s side of the car, leaving him to be dragged under.

 

* * *

 

When he wakes up he’s on a couch, a bucket next to it, along with a glass of water and some painkillers. He takes the pills and the water. As much as he gets killer headaches whenever he is drunk, he rarely forgets what he’s done, or throws up. He doesn’t remember leaving Peter’s car though. Apparently he has, and somehow he’s ended up on the man’s couch.

 

“Good morning to you too…I would have brought you home, but I thought your drooling on my car window looked much better on my couch.” The man saunters into the living room, only a towel wrapped around his waist while he uses another to dry his hair.

 

“Really?” Stiles is still a little fuzzy on the details of his trip back from the club, and admittedly Peter’s very fine abs were distracting him from actually listening to the man’s words.

 

“No, you idiot. I tried to figure out where you kept your keys, but you kept whining, so I decided my couch was less trouble than to drive across town.” Well, that made sense, and was rather nice.

 

“I would complain about you ruining my chances last night and taking me home…but thanks.” Stiles had been too drunk, and Peter was right, he would have regretted going home with that Maurice.

 

“You were drunk Stiles. Too drunk for anything you did to be consensual, even if you apparently have a good memory for someone with that much alcohol in his system.” Peter shrugged. “Coffee?”

 

“Still, thanks for looking out for me you know…Did I by any chance try to kiss you when we got here?” Standing up, he takes a second to let the world stabilise itself again, before following Peter to the kitchen. The man seems horribly amused at the memory of it.

 

“You tried it twice actually. The first was because you thought I was taking you back to my place for sex, and the other was when I tucked you in on my couch and you wanted a goodnight kiss.” Stiles winched, feeling more than a little guilty. It was a good thing Peter seemed to be more amused than irritated at the fact that Stiles sexually assaulted him. “Stiles, you were drunk. It was rather enjoyable to watch, even if your kissing needs some improvement or less alcohol to really be any good.”

 

Stiles groaned. “Just shut up and get me my coffee…and don’t you need to put some clothes on or something? You’re giving me body issues just looking at you.” His hands flailed as he indicated Peter’s outfit or lack thereof.

 

“The coffee is running, but I’ll go and put some clothes on for his majesty.” Stiles should have known Peter would pull a stunt like pulling away the towel on his waist and sauntering into his bedroom buttnaked to get dressed. “You have nothing to ashamed off darling. I know I don’t.”

 

Stiles wasn’t interested in dating Peter, only in some of his many fantasy worlds, but the man was hot. He had never denied that, and Peter knew it too. The man knew no shame, and showing Stiles all his assets was not an issue. “I hate you!” he called out after the older Hale.

 

Figuring that while Peter was getting dressed, he could get started on breakfast. Living with Derek had taught him a lot about the diet of boxers. Peter might not be a pro anymore, but he still looked and trained like one for a big part. So he found the eggs, and the rest he needed for a spinach, mushroom egg white scramble. With the right seasoning it was rather delicious. It would help with his hangover at least.

 

He was just pouring them both some of the coffee, already having dished out the food, when Peter finally came out of his bedroom. “And here I thought you were born looking like that. Knowing you take an hour to get ready certainly has shattered the illusion.”

 

“I’m still a god, I simply pretend to be a mortal. I’ve spent fifty-five of those minutes reading a book.”  Peter deadpanned, taking one of the plates and his coffee, and settling at the table. “I didn’t know you were such a housewife though?”

 

“I like cooking. I’ve done it for ages…besides, if I let Derek cook, the apartment would have burned down.” The reminded of his ex creates a sharp stab of pain in his chest, but it eases as fast as it had come. It gets easier each day to think about Derek. He knows the younger Hale hasn’t moved on yet either, and as much as he wants the other guy to be happy, he’s kind of glad he’s not been that easy to replace.

 

“Well, I suppose we can have our next dinner at home then rather than going out.” Peter comments, clearly wanting to move on from the subject of his nephew.

 

“You know, I’ve actually never been inside your apartment. It’s nice.” He had waited in front of the building, or they had met somewhere else whenever they went on an outing. The place was nicely furnished, of high end material. There was a jarring lack of pictures though, and it looked not quite lived in.

 

“It’s nice enough. I spend most of my day at the gym, either finishing paperwork or training. There’s not much to do here but sleep and eat.” That would explain things then.

 

“You never tried to date…I mean, it’s been a while since you woke up.” So there was a slightly morbid curiosity there, but he had a right to know considering Peter knew some of his dating history.

 

“I…I got involved with one of my nurses. It didn’t end well…she expected to stay my caretaker, even though I had already healed to be released and do things myself. She apparently was obsessed with taking care of her lovers. After a psycho like that, you lose interest in dating rather quickly. I have occasional bedpartners, but that’s about it.” Stiles winched in sympathy, sticking to his food for a moment.

 

He had read Peter had been engaged before he’d gotten his head punched in. ‘The desert wolf’ was a European boxer. She had made it to the worlds for women, and she still dominated there. Apparently her fiancé ending up in the hospital had made her return home and continue her career, leaving Peter behind. Stiles wasn’t sure what to think of that. Peter had been in a coma for a long time. Many believed him to never wake up again. On the other hand, he couldn’t imagine ever leaving a loved one in the hospital like that.  

 

“You should try again, you know…you shouldn’t live in the gym like that.” He didn’t want to sound judgy, but Peter was a great guy. He shouldn’t be stuck in an office until it was too late.

 

“I have very rarily met people whose company I actually enjoy long term. I’m certain however that last night will not be the last of  you nights out, and if you stick to a reasonable amount of alcohol, I might just consider looking for someone myself to spend the night with. Someone I do not need to put on my couch with a bucket next to him.” Stiles groaned, taking another gulp of his coffee.

 

“I know, I know. I’m sorry…it’s just been a long time since I got the chance to go out. I promise you next time you will just be my wingman, and not my babysitter.” He probably had ruined Peter’s night with his own reckless behaviour. Being able to remember what he’d done the night before didn’t mean he wouldn’t have made horrible decisions that same night. Peter had prevented him from doing something foolish like unprotected sex for instance.

 

“Stiles, you’re part of the team. It’s my job to look out for you.” Peter scoffed, finishing his plate, and leaning back in his chair. His fingers were curled around his mug, leeching warmth. “You are my friend. I will have your back.”


	11. A life outside

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one is a little shorter than my usual of around 2k words, but I felt that the ending was suitable. I'm also rather exhausted at the moment, but I didn't want to break with my one chapter a day (so sorry if there are more spelling/grammar issues than usual).

Their second time going out to party ends in disaster, but not on Stiles’ end this time. They had been at work more hours than at their respective homes, trying to deal with the fall out of Boyd getting injured pre-match. It threw their schedule off along with the worry on whether he would recover to the point of fighting professional matches again. Peter had needed the release as much as Stiles did this time, and so they had gone out for drinks. Apparently so had Derek and a few others from the gym.

 

Derek and Peter’s vendetta hadn’t suddenly ceased after Peter decided not to mess with Stiles any longer. They were still at each other’s throats. Well, Peter was at Derek’s throat most of the time. They kept it to insults and throwing punches in the ring, but now, with alcohol lowering their inhibitions, things got ugly really fast. Before Stiles had even registered Derek’s presence, the guy was pinning his uncle to the bar throwing accusations at him. Peter for his part hadn’t helped by instead of denying them, only adding more insults to injury.

 

Which all culminated in them sitting in the accidents and emergencies department, having to be stitched up and checked for concussions after several glasses of beer got broken in their fit. The other team members had left already, sending Stiles empathetic glances on their way out.

“What were you thinking?” Stiles snapped, staring both of the men down, his arms crossed and his feet tapping on the floor. “On second thought, I don’t really give a shit.”

 

Derek frowned, while Peter seemed to be highly amused by his cursing. If the older Hale thought Stiles was on his side because Derek had started it, he had another thing coming. “You two are the most immature assholes I’ve ever met. Do you realise I actually had to tell my dad that two respectable members of our gym went and had a brawl in a bar out of spite and jealousy? I had to pull quite a few strings to make him drop it, so neither of you would have a misdemeanour on your record for public disruption.” He held up a finger when Peter opened his mouth to argue.

 

“I don’t give a fuck on whether Derek started it or not. You sure as hell didn’t help. For the last time Derek, I’m not dating Peter, and even if I was, we broke up and you no longer get to tell me who to date.” The sour look on the younger Hale’s face made it clear he didn’t like that reminder. “This isn’t even really about me. This is about you two not resolving your issues. I’m sick of you two verbally abusing one another, and it’s not just me. The entire team is on edge whenever you two get into your little spats. You two probably are not going to talk it out amongst yourselves, so I propose you get in the ring, and we’ll hold a match, and you two can punch each other to your hearts content, without actually getting charged for destroying someone else their property."

 

They made a pitiful pair. Peter’s hand was bandaged where he had needed stitches, and his face was also covered with smaller cuts and a black eye. Derek was in a similar shape, with his cheek busted, and his hands and arms covered with spots where shards of glass had nicked it. “Now I think you can check yourself out after you’ve gotten the paperwork done. I’m going home to get some rest. Find your own way home, because I am done dealing with this.”

 

* * *

 

Stiles ignores calls from both men for the rest of the night, along with their texts. He is so damn tired of Peter and Derek continuously working against one another. Aside from the fact that he actually liked the both of them, it was also bad for the team’s morale if they continuously were put on edge by the two Hales.

 

He’s too pumped up after the hospital to go to sleep though, so he goes out. There is a warm mouth, and insistent hands pulling at his clothing, and it feels delicious to leave the gym and the team behind him for a night. Just casual sex with a stranger to remind him his life doesn’t need to revolve around the Hales and their issues. When the orgasm washes over him, it’s more satisfying than he had remembered sex to be like during his celibate months. He doesn’t even mind the guy cuddling up to him in the bed.

 

The next morning is a different story though. The awkwardness makes them shuffle around one another, not sure whether to pretend to enjoy one another’s presence and have breakfast together, or just get the hell out of there. In the end, Stiles goes for the second option. He has already gotten a glimpse of the kitchen, and he knows he’s arrived in one very badly cleaned bachelor’s pad. He knows the guy he slept with is legal, but the apartment reeks of pot now Stiles is no longer drunk and too occupied to notice, and it has the feel of belonging to a student rather than a guy with a job. It makes him wonder when he became such an adult. Then again, his twenty-fifth birthday was coming up.

 

He craves his own clean kitchen, his slightly messy but fresh smelling apartment. This isn’t him. It never really has been. Sure, he had experimented in college, and he wasn’t against the occasional adventure here and there, but he’s craving something more.

 

However dysfunctional his relationship with Derek might have been, it also had been stable in many other aspects. He wants that. He wants someone to call when he needs it. The security of being able to share more than just a night. Actual dates for instance. He wants that back, even if he doesn’t want to be with Derek anymore.

 

So, after a very thorough shower and a sugary breakfast, he finds himself perusing dating websites. Some of them he dismisses outright, knowing he’ll end up with a date for sex sooner than actually something serious. There is one that seems to have more people his own age, with an aim for more serious relationships, and so he signs up. He needs a life outside of the gym. Otherwise he would just end up getting stuck between Derek and Peter, with no actual benefits of sex or a relationship from either guy.

 

* * *

 

The two men in question don’t follow his suggestion of a punch-out, but they do calm down a little. Apparently they realised that getting into public brawls would bring some bad press along for the rest of them, if not end up with one of them seriously injured. Stiles harbours his grudge for three more days at work, but then Peter brings him his favourite hot chocolate, and Derek uses those puppy dog eyes of his, and he can’t keep it up any longer.

 

“Hot date tonight?” Peter questioned, motioning at Stiles’ attire and the fact that it’s not even five and he’s already leaving.

 

“As a matter of fact, I actually do.” He’s jittery, and he really wants to tell someone about it. The man looked pretty good in his pictures, and their chats had been fun, but Stiles wasn’t sure if he was the right guy for him. Still, after several days of messaging back and forth, it was only fair to meet up for an early dinner.

 

“With whom?” He clearly has Peter’s interest now, even though the man had just been going through their financials a minute ago.

 

“You don’t know him…we met online. I’m not sure yet about him, but he sounds alright.” Stiles shrugged, settling back in his office chair, he had a few more minutes to spare.

 

“You’re a cop’s son, and you’re meeting someone through the internet?” Stiles isn’t sure if Peter is actually really worried about his safety, or just judgy about choosing internet dating as his method of finding a date.

 

“We’ve been talking for a while now, and I’m meeting him in a public place. I have no intention of going home with him, unless the date goes well. Besides, I passed on the information to my dad in case I don’t show up tomorrow.” Stiles rolled his eyes. “I’m a cop’s son, so I know the risks alright.”

 

“I thought you planned to pick someone up at the bar…not this.” The way he says it, makes Stiles hackles rise.

 

“As if that is any safer. I just want to try and see if I can meet someone outside of this gym that I can actually see myself dating. I don’t want to end up a recluse like you.” Peter had  no right to judge him for trying to find someone to date. Peter could stay shut away in his office all he liked, but Stiles was going out and enjoy himself. It was a second too late that he realised how insensitive that sounded considering Peter had explained to him his failed relationship in the past. “Look…I’m sorry I….”

 

“Save it Stiles. Please, go out and have fun with your date. I’m sure he’s delightful. I’ll let your dad know if you don’t show up for work tomorrow.” The sharp tone made it clear that Peter wasn’t in the mood for an argument, and Stiles decided to cut his losses. It seemed like all he was doing with Peter lately was argue


	12. Dating Difficulties

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little earlier than usual to make up for the shortness of the the chapter last night. Thanks once more for all the lovely comments! I can't believe I actually passed the 100 already. You guys are really amazing!

Steve is nice. He sounds genuinely interested in what Stiles is doing at the gym, but there’s no spark between them. Stiles doesn’t feel attracted to the man, and while there is liking, there is nothing to indicate that they can be anything more than something comfortable. He knows there is nothing wrong with going for something easy. He could have the regular dates and he’s sure that Steve is the dependable kind. Never late, never messy, never having to worry if the man will call him if he says he would.

 

It’s not what he wants though, because it means he’ll have to work again. Work to make some sort of spark. A connection that goes beyond friendship. He needs someone who doesn’t mind his more chaotic behaviour. Someone who will challenge his way of thinking, and dares him to see more than just the comfortable world he already knows inside out.  So his date ends with an awkward kiss on the cheek, and no promises or intentions for a second one.

 

He finds himself home at ten, wanting to call Peter like he’s done the past few weeks whenever he’s bored, but he hasn’t forgotten the man’s judgement about trying to date via the internet. They’ve been on the outs for far too long, the brawl with Derek only barely resolved and they’re already at it again. This time it’s also his fault though. He had been unnecessarily harsh. Sometimes he wished he would think before he said something. Deciding to make it up to Peter the next day, he settles behind his laptop, crossing off Steve, and looking at the other potential candidates he was chatting with.

 

* * *

 

By the time he goes on his date with Tom, things still haven’t resolved. Peter is quite literally avoiding him, and it hurts that the man even chooses to spend more time with Derek of all people than to spend a minute in the same office with Stiles. Not that he doesn’t want things to be resolved between the two Hales, but rather not at the expense of his own friendship with Peter.

 

“Something wrong?” Tom is smiling at him, looking rather adorable with black curls framing his face.

 

“No, I’m having a good time. Why would you ask that?” Stiles was honestly having a nice time. Tom is younger than him by two years, and while he has the same energy levels as Stiles, he also has plans for a yearlong trip through Europe, and Stiles  knows that even if they were dating by that stage, it wouldn’t be long enough for him to consider going on such a trip for an entire year.

 

“You’ve been staring at your phone every five minutes as if it can ring any moment.” The guy looks more amused than insulted that Stiles apparently paid less attention to him.

 

“I’m sorry, I’ve just gotten into a fight with a friend over a week ago, and he’s been ignoring me ever since…How am I supposed to apologize if he doesn’t actually give me the time to talk to him?” Stiles throws his hands up in frustration. Peter somehow always had to drive him up the wall, whether they were friends or not didn’t matter.

 

“So…this _friend_ of yours, is he an easy going guy?” Tom clearly seems to think that Peter is more like an ex-boyfriend than just a friend, and Stiles doesn’t bother to correct him. Many people seemed to think he was dating Peter whenever they were spotted together, so why bother convincing a complete stranger of it.

 

“I think high maintenance would be a better description.” Stiles snorts, finding the thought of Peter being easy going quite hilarious. “He holds a grudge like no one I’ve ever met before.” Then again, with the situation between him and Derek being what it was, that was quite understandable.

 

“Then why are you waiting for him to listen to you? Make him listen.” Like it’s that easy. Peter avoided him at every cost. He opens his mouth to say so, only to realise that maybe it is just that easy. Maybe he really should just try harder to get Peter to stay put and listen. Stiles screwed up, so why should Peter be the one to give him the time of day?

“Tom…I think we both know I’m not going with you to Europe, or that I’m in for a long-distance thing…mind if I take my leave?” Stiles feels only a little guilty to leave the guy like this. They came in separate cars, and they’ve already had their main course and dessert. He stands up from the table, and throws down enough cash to cover their bill.

 

“No worries Stiles. That friend of yours is one lucky bastard.” Tom grins at him.

 

“It’s not….oh screw it, thanks for a nice evening.” Why bother convincing the guy Peter is only a friend. Tom is not the guy he needs to convince of anything tonight. Peter is.

 

 

* * *

 

Peter likes to deny it, but he has a major weakness, and it comes in the form of Stiles’ peanut butter chocolate chip cookies. The older Hale usually steals at least ten of them whenever Stiles leaves the treat for people to snack on at the gym. They are made by his mother’s recipe, and he’s guarded it with his life. Even Derek, who was at his apartment when he made them, wasn’t allowed into the kitchen to see how he made them.

 

The guy at the supermarket doesn’t even blink as he registers the ingredients. A few jars of peanut butter are probably not the weirdest thing he’s checked out this late in the evening. Stiles knows, because he was one of those customers at night during his college days. His girlfriend back then had some strange kinks regarding food, but he had fun experimenting with her. Plus, his snacking binges during his all-nighters made for some interesting combinations as well.

 

It’s already one in the morning when he finds himself at Peter’s door. A fresh batch of cookies in his arms. He has another box at home for the team tomorrow…or later during the day if his watch was to be believed. This one is purely for Peter though.

 

“Stiles, I swear to god, if this is not a crisis situation, I might just revoke my policy on hitting…are those cookies?” Peter’s hair is a mess, and he’s dressed for bed, but Stiles knows the man is as much of an insomniac as he is. A glance inside confirms it, there is an upturned book on the coffee table, and the radio is playing some jazz he doesn’t recognize.

 

“They are apology cookies…you were a judgemental ass about me going on a date..”

“If this is your apology, it definitely needs some work, because so far it sounds more like an accusation.” Peter cuts in dryly, though his eyes never leave the box, where the still warm cookies give off a delightful smell.

 

“You were an ass, but..” Stiles replies a little firmer this time. “But I shouldn’t have said what I said. I’ve wanted to apologize for the past week, but you haven’t given me the chance, so here I am, forcing you to listen.” As far as apologies go, it’s not the best, but he hopes the cookies will smooth over the rougher edges.

 

Peter glances between the box and Stiles, and then back again, before opening the door a little wider. “Do you want something to drink?”

 

“Yeah, sure…what are we listening to?” Stiles ends up napping on Peter’s couch, leaving early in the morning to get a change of clothes and the rest of the cookies at his own apartment. He’s not going to see Tom again, but he does leave an excellent recommendation on the man’s profile for people who are considering a date with the guy.

 

* * *

 

Things return to normal, and while Peter still snarks about Stiles’ dates, and there are many, he doesn’t insult his choice of meeting people through the internet anymore. In fact, he actually helps him pick a good profile picture, after of course thoroughly bashing the one he had chosen himself. It’s nice to have his friend back, even if that means he now has to listen to Peter and Lydia discussing his future dates their profiles. They are rather critical about who he should be seeing, but Stiles knows it for what it is. They care about him, and they want to be sure he dates someone they consider worthy of his time.

 

“He’s even shorter than Stiles?!” Peter argues as they look through a profile of a guy who had messaged Stiles.

 

“He has a fashion sense, and they’ve gone to the same university.” Lydia shoots back, clearly in favour of the guy.

 

“The last time your arguments contained the level of fashion sense, Stiles ended up being left with the bill.”

Peter and Lydia are in the middle of complaining about that recent failure of a date, when Stiles spots Derek. He should have known the guy would find out, and he’s certain Derek already knows, but it still makes the situation awkward.

 

“So….you’re dating again.” Derek mutters, wrapping his hands with a little more force than necessary. Stiles has taken the guy aside to talk to him, without everyone else listening in. Privacy is not something this team knows much about, but he still wants to pretend the news will not spread in five seconds.

 

“Look…we both know it was going to happen sooner or later. At least it’s not Peter like you feared.” He tries to cheer Derek up, but he knows it will hardly do much good.

 

“Are you happy Stiles? I mean…” The younger Hale was never one for many words.

 

“I am…I mean, I still compare them to you sometimes, and it’s rather difficult to match that body.” It makes Derek snort, and he can’t suppress a smile either. “But I’m moving on Derek. I still would like for us to be friends…and I’ll try to make Peter and Lydia shut up about my love life while here if it helps.”

 

Derek shook his head, making Stiles pause. The guy seems to mull over something, and considering how little Derek uses his words, Stiles tries not to prod him into talking. “I didn’t want to get what you were saying…about us…and I still feel the urge to punch something when you talk about dating again, but I get it now. Braeden has been asking me about going on a date again, and I think I’ll accept.”

 

Stiles had been certain it was going to happen, but it still feels like a punch to the gut to hear that Derek plans to go on a date with Braeden. In part it’s because he felt a selfish kind of need for Derek to need more time to move on from him, but it’s also because he knows they’re well suited for one another. They make a kind of match that Stiles is still looking for, and while he’s still young, it causes the irrational fear that maybe he’ll stay forever alone while Derek gets his happy ending.

 

It’s not all bad though. Derek going on a date means that Stiles can stop feeling guilty about dating himself. Besides, he wants to see Derek be happy. That feeling is more dominant than the selfish need to have them both be miserable. “I’m glad…I think you two make a great pair.” He means that with all his heart, and on an impulse, he hugs the guy. It’s comfortable and familiar when Derek hugs him back, but there is also a clear lack of anything more than that.

 

“Yeah, there is no way I can replace those pecs.” Stiles jokes, making them both laugh. It would take more than this, but he starts feeling less like he’s lost Derek forever. One day he might be able to honestly say they were friends.


	13. Yield

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've got a bad cold you guys, so I'm sorry if there might not be another update this weekend. They usually hit me pretty hard, but aside from a runny nose most symptoms disappear after a day or two. I do really want to thank you for all the amazing comments, kudos and bookmarks! You guys really made my day. And I believe I made it to the 25k.

“Derek, you need to stay light on your feet when you throw that punch. Like dancing really.” Stiles cautioned, watching his ex-boyfriend throw another punch against the bag. He had been able to avoid it for a little while, but Derek needed Stiles’ coaching just as much as the other fighters did. It wasn’t as awkward as he had expected, but their casual jokes between practices had been replaced by a complete focus on training.

 

“That shouldn’t be such a problem for you, you’ve always been a pushover.” Peter called out from where he was leaning on the elastic ropes spanning the ring. Allison was just getting out of it.

 

“Hey Peter! Shut up!” Stiles sing songed, trying to keep Derek focussed on his part of the training and not his uncle.

 

“I call ‘em like I see ‘em Stiles. I am not going to mince my words just so he can keep up his fragile ego.”

 

Stiles knew Peter’s irritation wasn’t actually about Derek at the moment. Kira had been attacked by a few guys from another gym. She had kicked their asses, but not without gaining some injuries herself. Police charges didn’t fix the fact that she had to forfeit the match next weekend. Erica couldn’t even guarantee that she would be able to finish the season with the way she had sprained her ankle. So Peter was having a go at his favourite punching bag, and from the readings on the screen, it was by no means improving Derek’s punches.

 

“Okay, you know what. Derek, go gab a drink and then get ready to go in the ring. Peter, you too. I think I speak for the entire team when I say ‘Fuck you’.” Stiles snapped, making everyone fall silent. Scott was staring at him like he’d grown a second head for challenging Peter like that.

 

“Excuse me?” Clearly Peter wasn’t interested in taking orders from Stiles either.

 

“You damn well heard me. I’ve been here for more than a year now, and all you’ve been doing is take your anger out on Derek. You two have issues bigger than Mount Everest between yourselves.” Leaving his laptop behind, he climbed up to the ring as well. Less graceful than the boxers did it, but he didn’t care right now.

 

“My issues with my nephew are not your concern.” Peter snapped, getting up close, which wasn’t all that impressive considering Stiles knew the man would never lay a hand on him. So he flicked the older Hale against his forehead.

 

“Yeah, newsflash, it does actually. You’ve been bringing your issues to the gym since the day you started to train Derek and everyone is sick of you two fighting. You have a right to be pissed at Derek, so go ahead and show him. Work out all those damn frustrations and move on. He screwed up, and it cost you big time, but he can’t magically change the past Peter. You still fucking owe me for making those misdemeanors go away.” Stiles warned him, staring the man down.

 

“I’m game for it…” Derek called out, having climbed into the ring, which made Peter’s jaw clench.

 

“Peter, you’re just screwing up your own life by trying to screw up his. Get this out of your system, and move on.” He kept his words low, and his tone soft. He wasn’t trying to punish Peter here, or blame him for all of it. He just didn’t see them get this resolved in any other way.

 

“Scott, you can be the referee. The official rules apply for a regular sparring match. No lasting injuries, and you go to the other is on the matt, or yields.” He reminded the both of them, just to be sure Peter wouldn’t lose control and beat Derek to a bloody pulp when he got a chance.

Considering they weren’t trying to make this about victory, they did wear the rather ridiculous looking helmets to prevent any damage to the face, and once the gloves were on and the gong rang out, all bets were off, leaving Stiles on the side along with the other members, minus Scott, to see the results.

 

“You think you can take me? You have never been more than mediocre.” Peter bit out as they circled one another.

 

“What do you want from me Peter? I’ve apologized a thousand times. Stiles is right, I am sick of you.” Their words were mumbled through the silicone mouth guards they were wearing, but Stiles hardly needed to hear the words to know they were pissed.

 

“That was always your problem, wasn’t it Derek? You always let your partners do the thinking for you.” A jab, which was blocked, leaving the men to circle again.

 

“I was fifteen, when are you going to get it?!” Stiles winched as Derek took a blow to the stomach.

 

“Get it?! You betrayed our family! For a nice ass and some tits. Do you know what you took away from me?!” Peter snarled, blocking two attempts from Derek, only to stumble as the third blow landed on his shoulder.

 

“I can’t fucking change that! You think I don’t feel guilty?” The conversation is halted as the two men really charge at one another, and it’s like watching a train wreck happen. Stiles can’t look away, even if he jumps at every punch that lands. There are still some insults thrown in the moments Derek and Peter pin one another to the sides, but they go unheard for the gathered crowd.

 

Allison looks a little pale, and Stiles suddenly remembers that it’s her aunt that caused all this. She had become such a big part of their team that he often forgets she is an Argent. The rest of the team looks on with various stages of confusion on their face. Scott is the only one, aside from Allison apparently, who knows as much about the family feud as Stiles does.

 

“You took my career and my reputation away from me! I was in that damn hospital for six years recovering from your mistake.” There is so much anger in Peter’s face, but also frustrations and hurt. “You left me there to rot!”

 

“I wasn’t allowed to go!” Derek snaps back, the both of them still throwing punches, but it seemed like they’d actually forgotten what their intended goal was. The news that Derek had wanted to visit makes Peter visibly react though.

 

“Last time I checked the hospital maintains regular visiting hours for the family.” The drawl isn’t as sharp as it could have been though, hesitation clearly there.

 

“Mother forbid me to go…they worried it would alert the press to your condition. That they would figure out who I was visiting.” Derek bit out, taking a shot at Peter, making the man stumble.

 

“Talia made everyone stay away?” Peter growled, returning with fervore, knocking Derek back. “And you all listened?!” It hadn’t been just Derek. The Hale family had been bigger after all, but all had left after the demise of their glorious reputation.

 

“I already broke the family’s trust once!” The younger Hale shot back. “I wasn’t about to break it again. You’re not the only one who hasn’t forgiven me for what I did.”

 

 “You owed me. You owed me more than you owed them.” Stiles, wants to turn away when Derek lowers his gloves and takes the punch Peter throws at him, his head snapping sideways, but he stays standing. It throws Peter off kilter too, and he doesn’t take his chance to continue punching.

 

“I know, which is why I had Laura sign the gym over to you, rather than me.” That seems to surprise everyone, including Stiles. “It always belonged to you. You were meant to lead it, even if mom always intended for it to go to Laura when she retired. So you want to continue punching? That’s fine…but I yield.”

 

For a moment there, everyone expects Peter to throw another punch. The older Hale still looks angry, but in the end, he just undoes his gloves, and leaves the gym. The silence in the air feels too sacred to break, and without saying anything, everyone starts to clean up after themselves, leaving the gym one by one. Stiles is the  one to go, collecting Peter’s things, and locking the office behind him.

* * *

 

 

“Thought I’d find you here.” Stiles comments, throwing Peter’s sweater at him. The man must have started to feel the cold of the early evening, now he was no longer covered in sweat and running on adrenaline.

 

The park was quiet, most people having gone home already for dinner. They had visited it on several occasions, and the man had told him he used to go for a run here. Hiding away from the gym, and his brutal training sessions when he’d still been up for a championship. Settling next to Peter on the bench, he waited for him to start talking. Not an easy feat considering he was dying to know what the man was thinking.

 

“If you think I’m going to thank you for what you did today, you’re mistaken.” Peter drawls, putting on the sweater. “How much did you know?”

 

“I knew that Derek felt guilty…and that while you’re justified, he really was just a kid who screwed up.” Stiles shrugs, trying not to feel a little miffed Peter wouldn’t acknowledge that it had been a good idea. “If you’re asking me whether I knew Derek made Laura pass the gym to you, no I didn’t.”

 

“What is it you’re expecting to happen here, Stiles? I am not going to forget what he did.” The stubborn set of Peter’s jaw makes Stiles wonder if the man is refusing because he doesn’t want to forget, or because he has no idea what to do with himself once he lets go of that anger.

 

“I’m not asking you to…” The older Hale should do it for himself and his relationship with Derek, not because he wanted to please Stiles. “You know, my dad used to drink. After my mom died…he barely managed to keep his job. He was either busy with alcohol, or with his work, or both at the same time. Whenever he did make time for me it was to tell me how I killed my mother, and how every problem in his life was my fault. It went on for about two years.” He swallowed thickly, knowing Peter is staring at him. “I had just turned eight when my mom died. He cleaned up his act though. He rarely drinks anymore, and while we may not have the most traditional father and son relationships, he’s still my dad. I can hate him…and I did. I lost my mom. I shouldn’t have had to take care of him too. I forgave him though. He’s the only family I’ve got, and he cleaned himself up for me. That doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten, or that I don’t take away the bottle when I think he’s going too far.” He sighs.

 

“Stiles…” Peter starts, but Stiles doesn’t want to hear the meaningless apologies for things the man had no hand in.

 

“Derek screwed up Peter. He did something incredibly stupid. He was also a fifteen year old kid, seduced by an older woman. He’s been trying to make it up to you ever since. Now, I don’t know how much you still talk to the rest of your family, but as far as I can tell, he’s the only one that stuck around here trying to fix things. You don’t have to forget all that you’ve lost, but holding on to that grudge might cost you the only family you have left. Not to mention the damage your actions, and I mean Derek too, are doing to the team. So think about that.” Standing up, he brushed off his jeans. “Your keys are in your pocket. The gym has already been closed for the day. Just think about what I said okay. I’m not planning to pick sides in this fight, whether you forgive him or not.”

 

He left Peter there on the bench to think things over. He hadn’t planned to share his own family history, but he understood how rough it was for Peter to let go of all that anger that had built up over the years. He just hoped they all could move forward from this point on.

 

 


	14. Boxing for Women

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry you guys for the delay. I did warn you about that. I still have a cold, so I apologize if there are more mistakes than usual, but I just hated not giving you guys an update. I wanted to give you guys a little more backstory in this chapter, so a little less Peter and Stiles, but I hope you still enjoy it!

Peter doesn’t show up at the gym for a little while, and neither does Derek. There is a kind of solemn silence, even if everyone keeps on going the way they would have had the men been there. The Hale gym just isn’t the same without a Hale there to run it. Peter’s absences, along with the guy who trained there before most of them even considered boxing as their sport, leaves for a gap in the decision making, and suddenly everyone is looking at Stiles.

 

“Stiles, I was just talking to the reporter from Beacon Sports, they want to do an interview with Peter about the recent success his team has had, along with a photoshoot with the guys. Do you think he would be able to put it in his schedule?” Lydia is already putting various other files on his desk to be checked, while also holding her tablet with the information about the interview.

 

Stiles has currently taken residency at Peter’s desk, and it feels already too overwhelming. Three days in, and he only just realised why Peter stayed way longer than the team to get his work done. “Uh…yeah, but I’m not sure whether Peter will be back soon. He’s cleared his own calendar for the next two weeks, so perhaps you should see about setting up a meeting then.”

 

Peter had called him the day after their conversation in the park, telling him that he would take a leave of absence, and to pass along his password for his computer so Stiles could enter his files and calendar. Apparently Peter had taken Derek on a road trip, something they had done back in the good old days, to try and figure out how to move past this issue between them. Stiles would have been thrilled, if it wasn’t for the fact that he was now trying to do a job he hadn’t fully trained for.

 

“You could do the interview.” Lydia suggested instead, tapping out some things in her phone –how she managed to work various pieces of electronics, carry paperwork, and not trip on those thin heels of her, he’d never know.

 

“No, we all decided I should stay out of the spotlight. Besides, I don’t think Peter would agree with it much.” Where was that damned pen he had just had a few seconds ago.

 

“You’re in charge now Stiles. Peter called you for a reason.” Stiles couldn’t help but snort.

 

“I’m the only one here who has the second set of keys to the office, that doesn’t need to train. I’m not in charge, I’m simply….temporarily babysitting the gym. That’s not the same as legal guardianship.”

 

“Stiles, he trusts you. He could have asked me to do this, but he called you. He knows you’ll make things work just as well as he does.” Lydia told him with a scoff, not at all agreeing with his dismissive status. “Now, the interview?”

 

He wanted to argue, but he honestly wasn’t sure what he’d say to that. “Right…well, Peter isn’t available, and I’m not interested in doing an interview. I meant it when I said I planned to stay out of the spotlight. Ask the reporter whether he can come to the gym and have his interview here. He will want Derek, so instead tell him he can either do an interview about the women on the team, or none at all. There have been enough interviews with the men, I think Kira and Allison deserve some camera time too. They can take the angle of females in boxing. Malia can join them if you think she’s ready to talk to someone without punching them. Perhaps you and Erica should join.”

 

“You wish to tell a reporter to change his entire story?” Lydia questioned, raising an eyebrow.

 

“Peter and Derek aren’t here, and those are usually the ones they want to see. Besides, the man can choose between a generic article, or something about gender equality, which might just actually make women pick up the magazine. I’m sure you know how to sell it.” Stiles shrugged, lifting another document and finally finding his damn pen.

 

“And this is why Peter left you in charge.” Lydia gave him a pat on the cheek as if she were a proud mother, and then left his office, already dialling the reporter.

 

It took him another three days to start to get the hang of Peter’s job. It wasn’t as overwhelming anymore now he knew how to delegate his tasks a little better. It still meant long hours, making sure everything was going okay. Apparently the man made status reports of each fighter’s progress, ant that, along with the time spent on the bills the gym raked up, managing the training sessions, contacting suppliers and making sure all the paperwork was filed for upcoming fights, made for a lot work.

 

* * *

 

When the reporter came around though, Stiles felt he was allowed a little break, so he came along as the women were seated on one of the benches, while the man asked questions. They would have a photoshoot a little later, but it was clear the man knew the women would look fantastic on the cover.

 

“So, were there any reservations about going into a sport so hyper masculine?” There was a tape-recorder put on a small table between them, along with him taking notes.

 

“Not for me, I’ve grown up in the gym.” Allison shrugged. “It’s not the sport that’s the issue. It’s the guys that catcall you, or think you’re weak.”

 

“Yeah, my mother always told me I could be just as good as the guys, and then you go to a gym and they treat you like you’re made our of porcelain.” Kira nodded empathetically.

 

“Your fights are against other women though? Are you saying you wouldn’t mind doing professional fights against men?” Stiles rolled his eyes. If only the reporter had seen Kira knock Scott on his ass the day before.

 

“Men tend to bulk up faster, and they usually are taller, but here in the gym we’re taught to fight with every advantage we have. We might be shorter, but we can be faster. We can use their weight against them.” Which was completely true.

 

“Peter Hale has been the one to recruit most of you, and is the only gym in the county with this many females on his team, how was it like for you at other gyms?”

 

“I didn’t fight at a gym, I fought on the streets. Guys just pissed me off when they thought they could tell me what to do because I was a girl.” Malia butted in, and Stiles bit back a chuckle when he caught Lydia’s face souring a little at her harsh tone. Always the media-expert.

 

“I came from a smaller gym, and I was the only girl there. They wouldn’t treat me like an equal. Whenever I did beat a guy in the ring, he’d say he was letting me win. It was so frustrating.” Kira huffed. “When Peter came to see if there was anyone worth putting on his team, I was the only one picked. That was pretty satisfying.”

 

“I used to box myself, but I was never good enough to go pro because I have a mild case of epilepsy. I did try to join other teams as their physical therapist, but none of them wanted a woman, or were crude about it.” Erica shrugged. “When Boyd joined the team here, he introduced me to Peter. Alison and Kira were already on the team, and Peter wanted a female physical therapist, because his previous one was a smarmy bastard.”

 

Stiles was learning quite a lot here. “Yeah, I think he would have done a lot more than punch Daehler when he found out he was a little too interested in the women on the team, if Derek hadn’t stepped in.” Lydia agreed.

 

“How about you Ms. Martin, do you feel part of the team?”  

 

“Of course I do, they are my friends. I may not box, but I like the team and I deal with the publicity. This team needs a good publicist along with a good coach and great fighters.” She scoffed as if the question was preposterous to ask.

 

“How did you end up with the Hale Wolves then?”

 

“I was brought in by Peter. I had not actually considered this as a career for me, but he put down the proposal before I was out of college even. Told me he would only ask me to help him for a little while, and if I didn’t like it, I could leave the moment my contract was up. Obviously I stayed.” Stiles had known Peter had recruited Lydia early on. She hadn’t even been studying a relevant course, but he had seen her potential long before his competitors had.

 

“Lydia is our queen. I think even Peter lets her do what she wants, because he knows she’s that good.”  Erica laughed, soon joined in by the others.

 

“Do you think Peter is a man who likes to take risks then? He hired miss Martin before knowing what you were capable of, he’s taken in someone from the opposing gym, another who has no experience of fighting in an actual ring.”

 

Lydia shook her head. “Peter doesn’t take risks. Whenever he offers someone a place here, it’s because he knows what their potential is. Fighters have to take several trial runs before they’re officially on the team, and he researched me thoroughly. His methods might seem strange to others, but he knows what he’s doing. His success since the re-opening of the Hale gym attests to that.”

 

“He’s progressive. We’re asked to perform on the same standard as the guys here. He doesn’t cut us any slack, and we often practice against them. Boxing isn’t for everyone, but he doesn’t consider that to be a gender thing.” Kira added.

“How do you feel about that Ms. Argent? You come from a family of boxers yourself.” 

 

“My family is a matriarchy, so I’ve never felt like I wasn’t good enough to go up against men, but for me it helps that I’m not training with my family. I will not get a preferential treatment. If anything, he made me work harder because he wasn’t going to give me a spot based on my name. Fighting on this side of the fence meant raising the bar for myself, and I think I’ve become a better fighter because of it.”

 

“Do you feel more women should go into the sport?”

 

“It’s not about whether or not there need to be more females to balance things out. It’s the fact that if a female wants to join, she shouldn’t be treated any different from the men. There might be a different kind of training, and some things might work better with a female fighter than a male one, but we’re all good boxers. Women can be just as good, but we’re not given the opportunity. It’s not the quantity, but the quality that counts.” Lydia had always been underestimated, and while she had used it to her advantage, she knew just as well as the other girls what it meant to be treated like she was less simply because of her gender.

 

“Let’s talk about your own careers. Do you think there is a chance to really go to the top for you guys?”

 

“We can’t all win the titles of course, but we’ve all been doing really well in our matches.”  Allison certainly planned to make it to the top, and Stiles knew for a fact that Peter was aiming to train her more –if he ever came back and he hadn’t killed Derek on their road-trip-.

 

“I’ve only just started, but I’m enjoying this. I’m not much of a planner, so I just take every fight as it comes.” Malia had potential, but she was too much of a wildcard. She was young though, so she still had the chance to make it there in a different season.

 

“I think that the Hale Wolves will do much better this season, and that we’ll bring back a lot of trophies. The men and the women.” Lydia sounded so very certain about that, and with the statistics as they were, she wouldn’t be wrong.


	15. Stupid

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My cold is clearing up nicely, and seeing as I missed two days of updating, I figured you guys deserved another chapter. I'm trying to think of possible oneshots I can write for the drabbles alongside this story, and I was wondering what you would like to read? Post it in the comments, and I'll see if I can add them to the list. Thank you for all the wonderful reviews/kudos and bookmarks!

Stiles manages not to get himself buried in paperwork the three weeks Peter and Derek are gone from the gym, and he even feels a little proud of how well they had done. The interview was well received, and there were suddenly a lot more females applying to train at the gym. Most of them wishing to transfer from other, less female friendly, gyms. So he feels he’s done pretty well when he enters the gym the morning of Peter’s arrival back. He’s not surprised Peter is there before him, but the state he finds him in is.

 

“What happened to you?” Peter’s arm is in a sling, and the first thought that pops into Stiles’ head is that him and Derek got into another fight.

 

“My idiot nephew decided that wall climbing would be an excellent bonding experience.” Peter drawls. “My foothold broke. It’s just a fracture, no long lasting damage.”

 

He sounds irritated, but Stiles can read between the lines. Well, he knows Peter well enough at least to tell the difference between actual anger, and simple exasperation –he was usually on the receiving end of the latter-. “So you two have finally patched things up again?”

 

“I’m not going to suddenly share my hopes and dreams with him, but I would not kick him out of my funeral procession when he finally does manage to kill me.” Translation: they’re getting there.

 

“I’m glad to hear it. The gym is still standing as you can see. Nothing major happened here.” There are no big fights planned, which is probably why Peter dared to take a leave of absence in the first place.

 

“Nothing major, huh?” The older Hale throws down the magazine, Kira and Allison on the cover in a beautiful shot of them practicing in the ring –which was of course staged, but still-.

 

“Well, we did do an interview, but it’s had great results.” Peter is looking at him like he did either something amazing, or incredibly stupid, and Stiles can’t stop the urge of defending himself.

 

“I should think so…because the interview has not just appeared in Beacon Sports. We actually heard about it through an online blog.” Peter smirked. “We’ve gotten a call from Sports Illustrated, whether or not we would be interested in holding an interview with them regarding our gym policy and the successful women’s team we have. I think it’s safe to say you did something major. The Hale Gym hasn’t been in Sports Illustrated since my loss at the championship.”

 

“You’re kidding me? I mean, I figured it would be good publicity…but this…wow.” Stiles is floundering, which seems to amuse Peter even more. “Dude, this is awesome. I’ve got to tell Scott.” His decision had actually gotten them some great press.

 

“You can tell him during the meeting with the entire team later, right now we have work to do. I need to be updated on where everything is at.” Stiles was too happy to be bothered by the fact that there was no time for a conversation about what Peter and Derek had actually gotten up to out there.

 

* * *

 

“Any chance you’re still up?” It’s Friday night, there is no work to be done tomorrow, and he just really wants to spend some time with Peter.

 

“It’s half past eleven, at night. Of course I’m still up…why are you calling?” Peter sounds a little rough around the edges, and Stiles doesn’t blame him. The man has been rather frustrated by his lack of use of his right arm. Aside from not being able to help with training other than to supervise, he also has been slowed down in his work. Stiles tries to pick up some of the slack, but it still makes Peter’s return to work rougher than it needed to be.

 

“I just had the crappiest date ever. I only just managed to shake him off, and I don’t think he actually got the hint that I’m not interested. I thought I’d spend some time with someone who knows how to use words longer than two syllables.” The man hadn’t been that big of an idiot, and he had seemed great in their chats, but the actual date had been a disaster.

 

“Yeah, it’s fine. You can drop by.” Peter agreed easily. “I’ll see you soon then.”

 

“I’m already at your door, with stuff to bake cookies. The market was still open.” Stiles is a stressbaker, and right now he needs some comfort food.

The door to Peter’s apartment opens five seconds later, the man in question raising an eyebrow at Stiles’ face. “It must have been a truly horrendous date then. You did not even come by to bake after that woman nearly set you on fire.”

 

“I did not need a reminder of that, and at least it was an accident.” She had been a little too chatty for Stiles’ liking, but the fire thing just sealed the deal for him. “And it was pretty damn terrible. All he could talk about was his ex-wife, which he apparently has a kid with.”

 

He dumps the contents of the paper bag in Peter’s kitchen, having been there often enough to know his way around by now. It’s an open planned living area, so while Stiles starts to grab the utensils he needs for the cookies, the other man just settles at the breakfast bar to watch him work.

 

“That does sound like a rather enjoyable evening.” Peter deadpans. “But this is a rather extreme response, don’t you think?”

 

“No it’s not, it was horrible.” Stiles mutters. He knows the peanut butter hasn’t done anything to him, but there is still a sense of satisfaction as he slams the contents of the jar into a bowl, making Peter winch.

 

“Are you certain this isn’t because of Braeden and Derek?” Stiles frowns, his hands stilling for a moment.

 

“I’m not jealous of her. I’m actually happy for them, Derek and I were never meant to be.” He means it. Derek and Braeden had been together for a little while before he and Stiles had even met, and now they were dating again. Apparently Derek had kept in contact with her during the road-trip even. They were currently out on their fourth date already, and Stiles could tell that it wouldn’t be long before Derek would ask her to move in. They practically lived together already it seemed.

 

“I did not say you were jealous of her having Derek, but I sincerely doubt you’re enjoying watching them be happy.” Peter shrugged, sipping what Stiles guessed was tea.

 

“I don’t mind Derek being happy, I just hate that I’m not. I mean, I like the job and all, but all I keep getting are these crappy dates. I was the one who dumped him, who moved on, so is this just karma getting back at me for hurting him?” Stiles huffed, easing up on his assault of the food.

 

“Why do you keep trying to date through that website?” Stiles wants to defend his choice of dating through the internet, but Peter continues on. “Why don’t you try to date someone you’ve actually met already? I believe Kira likes you, and Lydia has finally gotten rid of Whittemore.”

 

“I don’t want to date inside the gym, even if Kira was my type, or Lydia wasn’t trying to seduce Parish.” Stiles shrugged, measuring some of the ingredients, before adding them to the peanut butter.

 

“What do you have against our gym? While I can see the potential trouble it has to date a colleague, you and Derek have resolved your issues.” Peter prodded again.

 

“I just don’t want to end up in the same situation where all I ever talk about is work. Derek and I ended up having nothing but the gym in common. I want a life that doesn’t fully revolve around the gym.”

 

“Like me, you mean?” Peter smirked, raising an eyebrow.

 

“Oh come on, I’ve apologized for that.” The man could certainly hold a grudge. “And honestly, you have no right to complain about my dating life, when you don’t have one of your own.”

 

He laughs when Peter holds up his good arm in a surrendering motion. This is what he needed. A relaxing evening with his friend. His dating life might be awful, but at least he had people like Peter to cheer him up again. “Let’s not focus on my crappy life, what happened with you and Derek on your break? You still haven’t told me about that.”

 

“There is not much to tell. It was a tradition in the Hale family to go on a road-trip together once a year. When we still had a huge family that is. It was mostly the younger ones that went. I generally came along as a chaperone of sorts. I was the cool uncle.” Stiles doesn’t say anything, even if he wants to laugh at the idea of Peter being the fun uncle. Peter seems lost in thought, and he does not want to interrupt that.

 

“Me and Derek used to like each other, even if he was a moody teen even then.” Peter snorted. “It’s rather hard not to talk to a person when you’re the only two there in a cramped space. We camped, went into some of the cities along the way. It did not go down without the occasional fight, but we also remembered some of the better times. We’re never going to be close, Stiles, but you were right. He’s the only family I still really have left.” Stiles knows that a big part of the Hale family had cut and run, and he doesn’t blame Peter for not wanting them back in his life. “Even if he seems intent on killing me, whether it’s by accident or not.”

 

“Make sure you have your will drawn up then.” Stiles suggests, before making Peter get away from the kitchen so he could finish his cookies without giving away his secret ingredients.

 

* * *

 

“What are you so happy about?” Lydia questions when Stiles checks his phone again in the middle of their lunch. It’s Sunday, and she wants to pick his brain about what he thinks about the interview for Sports Illustrated –or just pick his brain about Parrish-.

 

“Nothing, I’m just chatting with this guy on the site since last night. It’s been fun.” Stiles admits, putting his phone back in his pocket and trying not to grin when he feels it buzzing to indicate another message.

 

Lydia’s eyes light up. “Another man, Stiles, and you have not yet shown me his picture? Is he ugly?”

 

Stiles snorts. “I don’t actually know what he looks like…he only recently got on the site, and he hasn’t had time to fill much out yet.” He hadn’t actually been planning to reply to the guy, but his opening line had made Stiles laugh, so he had conceded.

 

“Are you sure he’s not some creeper stalking you or something?” Lydia seems doubtful, and Stiles doesn’t blame her.

 

“I’m not planning to meet up with him any time soon, and anyone can design a fake profile with a fake picture.” He reminds her. “I’m just having fun talking to him, that’s all. I’m not going to meet him until I know more about him.”

 

“What do you know?” If Stiles wasn’t so sceptical himself, he would have been irritated.

 

“He’s older than me…quite a bit actually. He is from Beacon Hills. We’ve mostly just stuck to things we find interesting, you know. Nothing too personal. It’s not like I have everything about me posted on there.”

 

“Just be safe alright. Don’t rush into something because Derek is moving in with Braeden.” Lydia replies primly.

 

“He’s moving in with her?” Stiles knew it was coming, but he had been surprised he hadn’t heard about it before.

 

“Yes, he asked her Friday apparently. It’s too soon if you ask me, but they seem content with running headfirst into a wall, so I am not going to tell them differently.” Lydia is trying to be supportive by bashing Derek’s plans, and he appreciates her for it, even if it doesn’t make that jealousy in the pit of his stomach go away.

 

“It’s fine. They make a nice couple, you know. I think they’ll be happy.” He hums. The look he gets from Lydia tells him he hasn’t fooled her at all.

 

“Just don’t do anything stupid, Stiles.” She cautions him again. Stiles waves her worries away, trying to smile, while his phone buzzes again with a new message.


	16. Hibernation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a shorter chapter than usual, but I didn't want to add words for the sake of a word count. I did add a new drabble to this verse as well, so you should have plenty of reading to keep yourself busy with. Thanks once more for the lovely comments/kudos/bookmarks. You can also continue to post ideas for drabbles in the comment section. I may not get to them the next day, but that doesn't mean I don't like the idea or am not going to use it.

“I heard there is another man in your life.” Peter comments out of the blue. They’ve been working in silence for the past hour or so, and while his tone is light, it’s clear he’s been dying to ask about it for a while now.

 

“Lydia never does know when to shut up, does she?” Stiles huffs, leaning back in his chair. He’s not interested in an inquisition right now, which was why he hadn’t told the man.

 

“She thought it was me, seeing as you are apparently seeing an older male, who did not add a picture to his profile.” Peter shrugs. “She wanted to know when we were going to go public.”

 

“Well, we both know it’s not you, so why don’t we drop the subject. It’s nothing serious.” He doesn’t even know why Lydia considered it serious enough to approach Peter like that.

 

“Why didn’t you tell me? You’ve told me about all your other dates.” Oh, so that’s what this is about.

 

“Yes, and you’ve been incredibly supportive in your criticism of them.” Stiles deadpans. “I’m not going on romantic dates with him…we have an arrangement.”

 

“An arrangement? Seriously, Stiles. Please tell me you’re not dating a married man, or is he a prostitute?” Peter always knows how to irritate Stiles, and right now he’s pushing all of his buttons at the same time it seems.

 

“Like I would actually be stupid enough to start something like that. It’s not like that, I just need to take my mind of things, and he…helps.” He subconsciously rubs the bruising on his wrists.

 

“By doing what exactly?” Peter earlier irritation seems to have transformed into suspicion and Stiles is pretty sure that if his current lover was here, Peter would have him thrown against the wall.

 

“Peter, you’re my friend, but that doesn’t give you access to every part of my life. It’s nothing illegal, it’s nothing non-consensual, and it’s absolutely none of your business.” So maybe he’s a little defensive, but this entire month is just turning out to be crap, and Stiles needs the release Anthony gives him. It’s rough sex, and sometimes Stiles is the one giving it, and other times he’s on the receiving end. It’s not the worst coping mechanism, and he knows that once this time passes, so will his ‘relationship’ with Anthony.

 

“Does it have to do with your mother?” Stiles freezes for a moment, and then he's filled with white hot fury.

 

“You don’t get to ask me that. I don’t bug you about what you do in your free time like this, so back off, Peter.” He’s already coiled tight, and Peter pushing him further might just make him do something Stiles will seriously regret later on.

 

“I do get to ask you that, when my nephew asks me to keep an eye on you. When your own father warns me that you might overwork yourself and whether I can kick you out on time.” Peter shoots back, and it takes Stiles by surprise. He figured Peter might have checked public records, or simply Stiles’ files, and made some assumptions.

 

“Then you can tell them they don’t have to worry about that. I know how to deal with things.” Peter clearly seems to disagree, eyeing the bruising on his wrist with clear disdain.

 

“Yes, obviously you do.” The sarcasm dripping from his voice is hardly helping Stiles’ temper.

 

“Screw you, Peter. I didn’t tell you that you shouldn’t have drank so much on the anniversary of your miserable loss, when you showed up with a hangover at work.” Peter doesn’t get to judge him. He doesn’t have the right to.

 

“That’s one night of the year Stiles, you’ve been going on these dates for the past three weeks.” Peter snaps. “And apparently your coping mechanism when you were with Derek, or before you worked here wasn’t much better.”

 

“Yeah, well, November sucks for me, okay!” It was the worst month of the year, and if Stiles could, he would go and hibernate, but unfortunately he didn’t have that option.

 

“No, it’s not okay. So why don’t you tell me what the hell is going on.” Peter replies, his voice sharp. It’s a good thing the office is soundproofed and the gym is already empty, or their shouting would have been heard throughout the building.

 

“What? My dad didn’t tell you why I hate this month?” Stiles gives a humourless laugh. “He didn’t tell you that this month is the month my mom died, but also the month she was born in? We got fucking birthday cards a week after we buried her from companies that hadn’t been informed yet. Or did he perhaps forget to tell you that he actually almost killed himself from alcohol poisoning that month? If it wasn’t for Scott’s mom, I would have had to call an ambulance. I would have been put into foster care, and he would have lost his badge. It was really great you know, finding my dad passed out, not responding to me when I asked him to wake up. I was eight.” Stiles stares at his desk, his jaw clenched. No matter how long ago it had been, or whether he had forgiven his dad or not, the memory of that day is still ingrained in his mind. That fear of his dad dying in the same month as his mother, and being left all alone, still sends his heart racing.

 

“Stiles…”  Peter sounds conflicted, and Stiles gives him a smile, though it doesn’t reach his eyes.

 

“What Peter? You want to say you’re sorry? That you didn’t know? Well, now you do. You may not think highly of my choices, but this month sucks for me.” It didn’t help that Braeden and Derek were now officially moved in together, and work had been more stressful than usual as they tried to get the books in order before Christmas next month. He had simply been overwhelmed with it all.

 

“I would have given you time off. You do not need to resort to this.” Peter motions at the bruising, clearly not convinced that Stiles’ coping mechanism works.

 

“The last thing I need is to be alone right now, Peter. It’s exactly the opposite of that.” It was Stiles’ biggest fear. To be all alone. His therapist in high school had called it abandonment issues. Stiles honestly didn’t know why the woman had needed seven sessions to identify that. He could have told her that from the beginning. It was why he clung to relationships like the one with Derek, even if he knew from the beginning they were meant to fail.

 

“So you go to a guy like that?” The words were spoken with a face as if Peter was smelling something nasty.

 

“So what if I do…He’s funny and nice in his own way, and he doesn’t ask questions about the why.” It wasn’t like Stiles hadn’t checked him out completely before deciding he was fine with being tied up. He wasn’t suicidal, despite everyone apparently believing he would end up doing something that would land him in the hospital.

 

“You could have come to me. You have no problem hogging my kitchen or my couch any other time of the year.” Peter scoffs.

 

“It’s not the same, and you know it.” Stiles knows that Peter means well, but sleeping on someone’s couch isn’t going to make him feel better. If anything it would make him feel even more alone and desperate.

 

“That’s because you refuse to let it become more.” They stare at each other for a moment, and Stiles sees the tilt of Peter’s head. As if the man is challenging him to shoot him down.

 

“Peter don’t start this. You know it’s a fucking bad idea. It was a bad idea when I was with Derek, and it’s a bad idea now.” Yeah, Stiles isn’t completely stupid. Sure, he’s been trying hard to ignore any signs that there might be something more between them, but he wasn’t unaware of it.

 

Peter may have started it all out as a joke, and he’s fairly certain that it had truly been just a way to mess with Derek’s head when he had tried to kiss him. It’s been a while since that moment though, and Peter had not touched him inappropriately in any way since. They had grown closer, and Stiles quite frankly couldn’t imagine his life without that acerbic humour to keep him company. Dating his boss, who happened to also be Derek’s uncle and his friend, screamed disaster however.

 

“Well, you seem in the habit of making bad decisions lately. I must be a truly horrendous idea if you prefer this..” He motioned at Stiles’ wrists again. “Over me.” There is a coldness to Peter’s eyes, and Stiles knows that his words had cut deep.

 

“I prefer keeping my friend, Peter.” Stiles isn’t going to apologize for telling the older Hale the truth. “I really don’t need this right now. I want to forget this conversation has ever happened, and if you give a damn about our friendship, you do too.”

 

Peter doesn’t say a word, but Stiles knows he’s angry. Ignoring the problem isn’t going to make it go away, but Stiles is already too high strung to deal with this on top of everything else. So he gathers his things as quickly as he can, and leaves the office, already pulling out his phone to send a message to Anthony. He just doesn’t want to think about anything right now.


	17. It isn't there

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for once more not updating. I had more prepwork for my courses than I had expected. Anyways, I hope you will forgive me for this chapter.

Stiles can feel the heat of the oven plate through the mits he’s wearing as he lifts it to slide the cookies on the cooling tray. He’s back at his dad’s for the weekend, and the kitchen is filled with his baked goods. His dad would be able to take them to work on Monday, and remind everyone why he has the best son in the world.

 

“So, you want to tell me what’s gotten you upset, kiddo?” The Sheriff askes, picking up an already cooled madeleine cookie and taking a delighted bite out of it, despite Stiles’ disapproving look.

 

“You know why…” Stiles mutters, turning back to the last area of free kitchen space so he can start on kneading the dough for the cheese and olive bread he’s planning next. 

 

“No, I don’t know why. Don’t tell me this is because of Claudia, Stiles…you never let it drag into November, and aside from that, you also don’t bake.” That was true. Stiles had never baked during November. Well, nothing at least that he hadn’t needed. There is the noise of a chair being pulled out from under the table, and Stiles knows he’s not going to get away with not talking. Not when it’s his dad. Stiles always wondered if he used that same silent stare during interrogations.

 

“Do you remember I told you about Peter?” He offers after an intense silence that seems to last for far longer than the minute it truly was.

 

“Stiles, you haven’t shut up about him for the last couple of months.” At the look of annoyance on Stiles’ face, his father dutifully holds his hands up in surrender.

 

“Yeah, well…he wants to be more than friends, and I have no fucking clue of what to do with that.” It feels like a relief to finally really talk about it. His father will give him his honest opinion, and he knows that it will not get back to everyone at the Hale Gym.

 

“Wait…are you saying you two haven’t….” The man trails off, and Stiles gapes at him.

 

“No! Of course we haven’t. Why would you think that?!” What was it with everyone assuming him and Peter were shagging.

 

“Well, I wasn’t sure, but you never shut up about him. I figured when you finally ditched Derek, that it was because of Peter.” Stiles isn’t really sure what he’s hearing here, but his father looks genuinely surprised that his son hadn’t already ended up in bed with his boss.

 

“What do you mean by ‘Finally’? I thought you liked Derek?” Definitely not at first, but Stiles had gotten the impression his dad had warmed up to his ex-boyfriend. “Why would you think I would immediately start fucking my boss, who is also Derek’s uncle and twice my age?” Of all the people Stiles knew, he had expected it would have been his father to have the most issues with his son doing something like that –well, aside from Derek perhaps-.

 

“I don’t dislike Derek, I just never really got the idea you two were really a good match.” The sheriff had met Derek a couple of months in when Stiles had brought him over for dinner. He had tried to make them spend more time together after that awkward dinner, but it had never really gotten to a point where the man treated Derek like a possible son-in-law.  “As for Peter…I’m not saying I’m encouraging you to date men like him, but you can’t choose who you fall in love with, and you’ve always gone after what you want. Whether I gave you my consent or not.”

 

“I’m not in love with him.” Stiles grumbles, glad he’s got the dough to vent all his frustrations on.

 

“Do you think you could?” There is no judgement here in the Stilinski kitchen, and it allows Stiles to actually truly consider the question.

 

“I think so…but he’s my boss, and I might just be the only real friend he has. If it goes wrong…” It’s not just his friendship with Peter and his career that he’s risking. It might also cause a rift within the team.

 

“If it goes wrong, it goes wrong, but from what you’ve told me about this Peter guy, he does not sound like the kind of person that can stand to be just your friend. Not when there is a chance for more.” There is an admiration there, which reminds Stiles that his mom had been that same kind of person. Rather risk everything, than to live life with the breaks on.

 

“And what if this is just some weird kind of Stockholm syndrome, and he’s just projecting all of this because I’m the only person he has close contacts with.” It was part of the reason he had held back. “I mean, the first months he just kept flirting with me because it pissed off Derek. Who says that his feelings are more genuine now?”

 

“Stiles, there are a lot of reasons why this is a potentially bad idea, but the only question you need to ask yourself, is whether you can live without at least having tried.” Yeah, he could put that right up there with finding the answer to the meaning of life and whether god was real.

 

“So…you don’t mind Peter?” Stiles had long since stopped asking for permission, but in the end he still wanted his father’s approval.

 

“Stiles, from what you’ve told me, I think he’ll be good to you. If he makes you happy, then I’m fine with it, as long as that man knows that if he hurts you, I reserve the right to put him back in the hospital.” There is a soft chuckle as he’s pulled into a one armed hug. For a moment he feels like he’s young again, with his father still as his big hero who would always save the day.

 

* * *

 

He returns to the office as usual on Monday. There little spat from before had been politely ignored by them both the remaining days of November and the first few days of December. He knows he’s hurt Peter though. He’s not sure how much of it is ego, and how much of it is truly about his feelings for him, but their conversations are kept short and to the point. They pretend everything is fine, and with the pressure they are under, no one suspects a thing. Peter apparently always gets a little frazzled around the end of the year, and Stiles as his right hand apparently has fallen under that same spell.

His weekend at his dad’s had helped more than the past few weeks of brooding on things. He’s still not certain where Peter is coming from, but he does know that they need to talk without screaming at one another, or making accusations without a good basis for them.

 

“Hey, can we talk?” Peter has just returned from moving some of the equipment back to its original place, and Stiles knows that if he doesn’t say anything, they’ll just continue on ignoring one another as much as possible.

 

“If it’s about the deal for new equipment, I already handed it over to Lydia.” Stiles knows Peter is just playing obtuse right now, and it’s beyond frustrating.

 

“ You know it’s not about that. We’ve ignored it long enough, don’t you think?”

 

“As far as I know, it wasn’t me who stormed out of the office, Stiles. I’ve received the message. Don’t worry, I shall not attempt something like that again.” Peter’s tone is sharp, and it makes Stiles’ chest ache.

 

“I don’t think you actually did. Peter, you’re my friend and my boss, do you see how this can go really fucking wrong?” Stiles points out, hoping that the man isn’t going to bite his head off.

 

“Stiles, I’ve spent a big part of my life stepping into the ring knowing that one wrong blow could be the last. I think we both know that I am not one to back down because of a ‘what if’.” He knows it, but he still thinks Peter shouldn’t just throw those things overboard. “You can just admit that you do not wish to upset my darling nephew. Or is it perhaps the age that you find offensive?”

 

“Don’t be a dick, Peter. You know that it’s not your age, and not wanting to end up back in that awkward triangle with Derek is only normal.” Stiles scoffs, knowing Peter is just lashing out. It isn’t any less irritating though.

 

“I would like to point out to you that he has moved on Stiles. He’s moved in even. My nephew has discarded you like last week’s trash, so I doubt that he’ll mind me touching it. Other than perhaps finding it revolting.” It hurts more than Stiles likes to admit. It’s not the truth. He knows that Derek, despite his quick progression with Braeden, did not just discard him. That doesn’t mean it doesn’t strike a nerve to hear himself be described as a used piece of garbage.

 

“Well, then you tell me why you’re so interested in this piece of garbage?” He sneers, standing up and getting in the man’s face. “What is it about me Peter? Or are you just still so obsessed with Derek that even now, you’re still making a grab for his leftovers.”

 

“Well, I’ve never been one for sloppy seconds, but I’ll make an exception for you if you like. That way you’ll know what you could have had if you didn’t care so much about what other people think of you.” Peter’s furious, Stiles can tell. This close up he can see even the small scar, almost covered by Peter’s eyebrow, from where he had once had gotten a piercing in a moment of rebellion.

 

“Bite me, we both know that you want me, and you’re just being an ass right now because I said no.” Stiles growls, his amber eyes meeting Peter’s blue ones.

 

It happens so fast he doesn’t quite register they’re kissing until the doorknob jams painfully into his lower back. Peter is one damn good kisser. There is nothing gentle about it. They’re both frustrated with one another, and Stiles can feel the damn of pent up sexual frustration break inside of him. He’s always been good at ignoring the things he doesn’t want to acknowledge. Months of casual touches, hugs, and shared drinks have led to this.

 

There is a moment of clarity in his mind, but while it urges him to take a step back so they can talk, he only uses it to lock the door to the office. After that, it’s all about Peter and getting the man naked. Peter seems in an equal hurry, tugging and practically growling as he tries to get Stiles’ out of his clothes.

 

“Hey!” There is the sounds of buttons tapping on the floor as Peter yanks a little too hard on his shirt.

 

“I’ll buy you a new one.” Stiles isn’t even sure Peter knows what he complained about. He doesn’t know if he actually cares himself.

 

There is no lube, and the condom in Stiles’ wallet seems too far away from where it’s lying on the desk. So they don’t get much further than a combination of humping one another and handjobs. It doesn’t matter anyways. The orgasm is really only a small part of their act. Right now it’s about being allowed to touch one another this intimately. About kissing until Peter’s lips look swollen, and Stiles is sure he looks equally debauched. He’s going to need a scarf tomorrow to cover up what he’s sure to be impressive hickeys.

 

* * *

 

“Well…that’s not how I imagined this conversation would go..” Stiles comments idly as they sit on the floor, their backs pressed against the door. The clothes that they hadn’t bothered ditching cling to his sweaty skin, and he knows it’s going to be an awkward trip home.

 

“I imagine it wasn’t, but I can’t say I’m disappointed…” Peter purrs, his head is tipped back, and his hand is on Stiles’ right thigh, lightly running his fingers across the sensitive skin there.

“This still isn’t a good idea you know…” Stiles points out. “Is there even a policy here on the boss shagging his assistant coach?”

 

“Not as far as I know, but I do believe the team owes Ms. Martin money. I believe she has a sixth sense for making predictions.”

 

“Of course they’ve been betting on us..” Stiles groans, tipping his head back as he connects the dots with why Lydia should get money. “What are we doing here exactly?”

 

“Well, I was enjoying a rather nice afterglow, but it seems you’re intent on ruining it.” Peter gives a sigh when Stiles just gives him a look. “I want you, Stiles, and I believe you want me too. If you’re looking for an undying declaration of love, or a marriage proposal, I’m not your guy however.”

 

“So what is it I can expect from you?” Stiles doesn’t need all that right this second, but if Peter is already planning his way out of this arrangement, Stiles has no plans of repeating what happened just now.

 

“You know what you can expect from me Stiles. The same thing we’ve been doing for the past couple of months, only with the addition of you crashing in my bed rather than my couch.” Peter shrugs. Stiles knows the man isn’t a romantic, and that he’s probably also not much of a believer in relationships, but Peter’s words make Stiles’ heart plummet.

 

“Yeah…that’s not good enough Peter. I’m not looking for friends with benefits.” He makes a move to get up, but Peter’s hold on his leg stops him.

 

“Stiles…I need you.” Stiles believes him, and that’s what hurts the most. Peter needs everything Stiles can give him, but he just can’t promise to give him the same thing in return.

 

“I know…but I need something more from you than that.” He presses one more kiss to Peter’s lips, and then he gets up. They dress in silence, and Peter lets him gather his stuff without any complaint.

 

“Stiles, I can try.” It’s a desperate plea, and Stiles wants to give in, but he did the same thing with Derek. He forced something that wasn’t there.

 

“I don’t want you to try, Peter. You can’t make something happen that isn’t there.”


	18. Set up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As expected university/colds/ and other crap is throwing off my updating schedule. I also apologize for the previous chapter...well actually no. Apparently you guys are all masochists because I got more comments on the worst chapter than on any of the others :P. Anyways, have fun with this one, and thanks for the comments/kudos/bookmarks! Can't believe it's already 35k of words.

Despite their admission that they were more than a little attracted to one another, things didn’t change much at the office. If anything, they returned to being the friends they once were. Stiles knows that Peter’s eyes linger, and he finds it difficult not to touch the other man when they’re alone together, but all in all they keep enough distance for things to stay professional.

 

It lasts all of three weeks.

 

The Christmas celebration with the team had been fun, and with Stiles and Peter both being tipsy, they had made the logical decision of walking two blocks to Peter’s apartment rather than Stiles trying to drive back, or leave his car behind with the added trouble of having to pick it up again the next day. It would be just fine. He had crashed on Peter’s couch on various occasions already.

 

Peter bed turns out to be of a ridiculously good quality, and Stiles finds it difficult to even muster the urge to get out from under the other man’s arm and leave. They shouldn’t have had sex, and he decides to tell the man.

 

“We shouldn’t have had sex.” It’s said in the direction of the wall, but with the way Peter’s breath puffs out against his cheek he knows it’s been heard.

 

“You have such a great way of killing the mood. I don’t think the sweat has even cooled down yet.” There is a press of lips against the back of his neck, and Stiles can’t help but snort at Peter’s ability to be a sarcastic ass regardless of timing.

 

“It’s the truth, and you know it.” Stiles reminds him, even if he’s not even making a single twitch to make Peter move away.

 

“Nothing has changed, I am well aware of that.” There is a rush of cold air as Peter props himself up on one arm, allowing for the cooler air to come between their previously intertwined bodies. “You still want more, and I can’t give you that, but as long as we are both on the same page, we don’t have to make every moment we have about that. We both enjoyed this, and there is no changing what has happened.”

 

Stiles want to argue, but he honestly can’t. They had a good night, and they had both been sober enough to be consenting adults. Sure, he could be irritated that Peter is getting what he wanted, but Stiles isn’t, but he went along with it. Peter hasn’t told him that he’s going to change, or that he’ll offer more than he can give. They both agreed on having sex, not on getting anything more out of it.

 

“Fine, but the only reason I’m not fighting this any further is because your bed is ridiculously soft. I still want more.” His words would have probably been more convincing if he didn’t end them by yawning.

 

“I am aware of that, and I will not begrudge you when you go and look for more.” Peter agrees, and Stiles doesn’t need a lie-detector to know that the man is lying. They don’t say anything else, and Peter just goes back to using him as a teddy bear.

 

* * *

 

It’s around ten when they wake up, and Stiles finds their positions have reversed, with him wrapped around Peter like an octopus from behind. A glance at the clock tells him he’s going to be horrendously late if he doesn’t actually get out of bed.

 

“I need to go meet my dad, so suck it up.” Stiles huffs, giving Peter a shove when he grumbles about being moved.

 

“Time for breakfast?” Stiles raises an eyebrow at the ridiculous picture Peter makes with his bedhead hair, and still half asleep gaze.

 

“Not if I want to have a shower first. I can pick something up on the way. I’m borrowing a shirt by the way. I’m not going to meet my dad smelling like sex and alcohol.” It’s surprisingly not awkward as he browses through Peter’s closet, before heading into the shower. It probably should be. He should be running out of the apartment by now, hoping that they can go back to being platonic friends who have not just had great sex. The feeling doesn’t come.

 

Perhaps it’s the fact that he’s done all this before. Peter wasn’t wrong when he said that the sex would be the only thing that would change if Stiles let it. He’s showered at the man’s place before, borrowed clothes to sleep in, and he knows where to find the towels and how to operate the coffee machine. Peter doesn’t come as often to Stiles’ place –not surprising considering the difference in luxury and the fact that he lives closer to the gym -, but Stiles knows that Peter has figured out how to work Stiles’ faulty shower knobs to still get the right temperature, which floorboards creak, and that there always should be some food in the bowl on the fire-escape for the neighbour’s cat.

 

The face Peter pulls when Stiles comes out of the bedroom in his clothes is hilarious though. “That’s not how that should be worn.”

 

“I like the way I’m wearing it. What’s wrong now.” Stiles huffs, finding his second shoe and hopping around a little as he puts it on.

 

“It should be tucked in…you’re dressing yourself like a hobo.” Peter’s outrage over the use of his clothing never fails to amuse Stiles. If anything, he keeps wearing it just to see that twitch in the corner of the man’s eye.

 

“At least I’ll be the most expensive hobo on the block. You can give me styling tips later though, I really need to go.” His dad is used to Stiles being a little late, but he’s fairly certain he’s going to get a call soon asking whether he’s crashed his car or something.

 

“I’ve got you coffee, and I still had some of your cinnamon rolls.” Peter holds the travel mug of coffee out to him, along with a paper bag which smells of mouth-watering cinnamon rolls. He probably warmed them up for a few seconds to take away any chill from the fridge.

 

“You are a god.” The moan isn’t faked as he takes the stuff offered, making Peter grin.

 

“I was well aware of that, but nice to know you finally realised it yourself.” With a last excessive use of rolling his eyes, Stiles leaves the apartment. It should be so much stranger, but it actually really isn’t.

 

* * *

 

He knows that he can’t just keep doing it with Peter though. As easy as it is, Stiles made it clear that the moment Peter becomes possessive, he’s out. There is a mutual agreement that the sex doesn’t change the fact that Stiles is looking for an actual relationship. They just also know that keeping their hands to themselves in the meantime is not a solution. It makes them cranky, and more than awkward as they fight the sexual tension. He justifies fucking Peter in the office with the fact that they’re simply responding to their physical needs as two currently single adults.

 

So Stiles continues dating. There are some good ones, and some bad ones. They are all nice in their own ways, and he even goes on second dates every once in a while, but they don’t make him laugh as much as Peter does. It doesn’t feel that comfortable. He doesn’t want to admit it, but slowly he stops losing interest in going on dates.

 

“You know, Braeden knows someone she thinks you might like..” Derek mentions awkwardly as they wander past stores, coffee in hand. Peter’s birthday is coming up, and Stiles has roped the whole team into putting some money down for a gift. Derek and Stiles are in charge of figuring out what to buy.

 

“Derek,  if it’s another jock, I’m definitely not interested.” Stiles snorts. Derek and him were back on good terms again, and being the big softy that he is, Derek actually has been trying his hand at setting Stiles up with blind dates. So he can be as happy as Derek is.

 

“Alright, so Matthew was a mistake, but Braeden’s friend is really nice. She’s not part of this whole world.” Derek still looks sheepish about his amazing failure in picking a date for Stiles.

 

“Look, I appreciate the effort, but I’m doing just fine on my own Derek. I promise.” Stiles stops for a moment, looking at a store window, contemplating whether Peter would like a leather jacket. He would certainly look good in one…

 

“You’re doing just fine sleeping with my uncle?” The comment startles Stiles into nearly choking on his coffee.

 

“What…we’re….who told you?” If Peter said anything to Derek to piss the guy off again, Stiles is going to murder him. He’s a sheriff’s son, he knows how to get rid of a body.

 

“Stiles, I know you and Peter don’t think much of me in regards to my intelligence, but I’m not an idiot you know. You have the same height, but his shirts don’t really fit your frame…and you smell like him sometimes. His soaps.” Stiles wants to deny it, but he knows he’s been wearing Peter’s shirts more often. The man had the annoying tendency to tear Stiles’ off whenever they were going to have sex. To this day he still hadn’t managed to get Peter to confess he did it on purpose so Stiles wouldn’t wear those ‘ugly’ shirts again.

 

“I don’t think you’re an idiot…I just liked to think we were being a bit more sneaky about it.” Stiles groans, rubbing a hand over his face. “It’s really nothing Derek…it’s just sex. We both know that I want more than he’s willing to give, and he’s fine with me looking elsewhere. This is just temporary.”

 

“As much as it disturbs me to see you with my uncle…he seems to make you happy, and he’s not nearly as much of a dick lately, so I will not complain.” Derek grumbles, looking mildly horrified at Stiles’ actual confession he was sleeping with Peter. Like hearing about it was ten times worse than knowing about it. “Just…be careful. Peter likes you, but he’s never going to change Stiles. Even before, when he was still engaged, I don’t think I ever heard him say I love you to her. I actually think they were getting engaged solely because they both weren’t in it for love, but simply a good time. Even if he’s capable of love…I don’t think he’ll ever tell you that. I don’t think he’s the one to actually be romantic.”

 

“A Hale trait then.” Stiles nudges Derek softly. “And I know Derek. I know he’s probably never going to, which is why I’m not sticking with Peter. I’m still dating...and he knows that.”

 

“Alright, now do you actually know of something that my uncle will not actually throw away the moment he’s left alone with it?” They might be getting along, but Stiles didn’t think Derek would ever be comfortable talking about his uncle’s sex-life. Stiles didn’t blame him. Spotting a music store across the street, he grinned. “Yeah, I think I know a gift.”

 

It takes him longer than he likes to admit to find a jazz record that isn’t already in Peter’s clutches, but he knows the man will at least like it enough not to throw it away. He would have asked Peter what would like for his birthday, but the man has been rather prickly about getting older, so it’s up to Stiles to find him a gift.

 

“Are you still sure I shouldn’t let Braeden know she can set you up?” Derek pleads again when they step outside into the sharp winter’s cold.

 

He wants to say no again. He wants to tell Derek he doesn’t need help finding a date, but he also knows he’s getting more and more reluctant to go out, which is not a good sign. “Fine, tell Braeden to text me her number.”

 


	19. Valentine blues

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry

Heather turns out to be exactly the opposite of pretty much everyone Stiles socialises with at the moment. She’s sweet, and shy, and completely uninterested in sports. She’s smart though, and after a bit of an awkward start, where he’s feeling like he’s trying to pull words from her mouth, their conversation starts to flow easily. It helps that she’s also rather pretty on the eyes.

After all the drama with Derek, Peter and all his other dates, this feels comfortable and relaxing. There is no pressure, and she seems to actually like his more spastic traits. One date turns into three, which turn into a few more. She’s all about taking it slow, and Stiles doesn’t mind. He knows what he has to do though.

 

“Stiles, what a pleasant surprise. Not a date with your beloved Heather?” Peter drawls, stepping aside to let him into the apartment.

 

“No, not tonight…and I came to tell you we can’t have sex anymore.” There, he said it. He knows it’s perhaps a little abrupt, but Peter probably saw this coming the moment Stiles went on his third date.

 

“She finally decided to put out then? Took her long enough. You could have just texted me, you know.” Stiles decides not to take it personally. It’s him who’s leaving Peter behind, and he’s not surprised the man isn’t thrilled about it.

 

“I actually like her Peter. She doesn’t deserve me going behind her back.” They weren’t officially monogamous, or having sex yet, but things were heading in that direction and Stiles doesn’t want to screw this up.

 

“Well, you know where to find me when this goes to hell like every other attempt at a relationship of yours.” Stiles digs his fingernails into the palm of his hand. Peter is lashing out, and he knows it.

 

“Peter, I want us to stay friends. You and I both know we don’t want the same thing, and you promised me you would let me go.” He knows that Peter probably didn’t expect for it to be this soon though.

 

“And little miss cute and boring does want the same things as you? Really Stiles? Will you take her to the boxing matches? Will you ever introduce her to the team. You know she will not fit there.”

 

“At least she is capable of telling me that she loves me!” Stiles snaps back, and Peter looks as if Stiles just sucker punched him.

“If that’s what you so desperately want, then go ahead. You’re right, I’m never going to be that kind of sappy romantic, but to be honest, I didn’t get the idea you were either.” Stiles looks away.

 

“I don’t need some cut-out hearts and chocolate and flowers, but you do not get to make me feel guilty for wanting to have someone that can actually admit they care. Now either you get over yourself and we can go back to being friends without benefits, or figure out what it is exactly you do want from me, because you can’t expect me to give everything with nothing in return for it.” The door slamming shut behind him doesn’t feel satisfying whatsoever.

 

* * *

 

“They’re beautiful, Stiles.” Heather is smiling from ear to ear, looking at the red roses he’s gotten her. They’re traditional, and Stiles had thought about picking something else, but he honestly didn’t know what kind of flowers she would like.

 

“Glad you like them…and happy valentine’s day.” He offered, rubbing the back of his neck. He’s not good at this. Peter wasn’t wrong about him being terrible at the whole romantic stuff. With Lydia, he used to buy fifteen different things and then pick one for her birthday, and he’d still feel like an idiot. This didn’t come natural to him. He wasn’t some suave Romeo.

 

“Happy valentine’s day to you too…my present is for after dinner.” She teases, giving him a quick kiss, which Stiles doesn’t object to.

 

Heather is sweet, and he truly likes her. This isn’t just going with the least worst option he has or anything. There is just the gnawing doubt of whether he wants things to be ‘comfortable’ for the rest of his life. Stiles can already see it happening. Two pretty children, the same kind of home he grew up in, a backyard where he’ll have barbeques for the team or something. It’s the idyllic picture, and he can have it with her. It will not always be easy of course, no relationship is, but it’s not going to be as much drama as all his relationships so far have been.

 

Their meals are served, and conversation jumps from the history of Valentine’s day, to recent movies they’ve watched. Stiles is enjoying himself, and every time those doubts pop up in his head, he shoves them away. So what if there is no instant spark, and he’s not watching his phone every second hoping she’ll call or text him. He’s compared her to Peter a million times, but that’s not a fair comparison. Peter and him didn’t magically come together. Their connection started out with him being in the crossfire of the Hale’s frustration with his nephew. It had taken time and work, and maybe with her it will get stronger with time too.

 

She takes him home that night, and they have sex. It’s nothing magical, but it’s definitely some of the better sex he’s had considering it’s their first time together. That doesn’t make sleep come easier though.

 

He’s always been an insomniac, and with Peter being the same, they still had some hours to fill with pillow talk. So he stares at the ceiling, wondering what it says about him that he’s just had sex with an amazing woman, and all he wants to do is call Peter to talk. Not about Heather or their own failing friendship, but just about stupid little things they could argue over. Whether the new Star Trek movie was better or worse than the earlier ones, or whether sugary donuts were a proper breakfast. Simple, stupid, things.

 

Heather shifts next to him in the bed, and her arm is thrown around his waist, making her snuggle up. She’s still pretty, even with the smudged mascara, and a faint redness around her lips from where their kisses had made her lipstick lose its perfect sharp lines. She doesn’t really deserve him thinking about another man when she’s lying right next to him, but he doesn’t know if he can honestly say that he’ll forget about Peter any time soon, if ever. He knows that Peter is never going to say ‘I love you’, and Stiles needs to hear that, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t love Peter. Rolling over with a sigh, he pulls Heather a little closer and tries to catch some sleep.

 

* * *

 

“Stiles, who’s this…” He grumbles as he answers his phone, which started blaring not four hours after he tried to actually catch a few hours of rest.

 

“Am I speaking to a….Mr. Stilinski?” The voice on the other end is sharp and professional, and Stiles immediately sits up in the bed, getting a disgruntled moan from his bedpartner. There is an icy hand around his heart, squeezing tightly. A glance at the clock tells him it’s two in the morning, and anyone who considers calling at that time to be necessary, is either Peter, or someone with bad news.

 

“Yes, Stiles Stilinski, did something happen?” He can guess, but he’s still hoping that the call that haunts his nightmares hasn’t just arrived.

“Mr. Stilinski, I’m Rebecca Martinez, I work at Beacon Hills hospital. I am calling you to inform you that your father has just been brought in with a gunshot wound to the chest. He’s currently in surgery. You are listed on his forms as his next of kin.” The world feels like it’s spinning, and Stiles is having a difficulty breathing. He is vaguely aware of Heather sitting behind him, asking him what’s wrong, but he pays her no mind.

 

“I will come in right away.” His hands are trembling and he honestly doesn’t know if he can actually remember the route to the hospital, but his father needs him.

 

“Do you have anyone to drive you? It’s not recommended to drive while panicked.” The nurse cautions, and he knows that she’s right, but how can he not be panicking? He cuts the conversation short and hold onto his phone as he takes a deep breath, then he goes to contacts and selects another number to call.

 

“Stiles, you better have a very fucking good reason….”

 

“My dad got shot…he’s at the hospital.” Stiles cuts in, feeling his voice tremble, and heather’s gasp only faintly registers. “He’s in surgery, Peter..”

 

“I’ll come pick you up. Don’t try driving yourself. Where are you right now?” There are no jokes about how Stiles can’t drive even when he is in a good state of mind, nor are there words of  comfort. It keeps him from falling apart completely as he gives the oldest Hale Heather’s address.

 

* * *

 

Ten minutes later, after getting dressed and trying not to have a panic attack, Peter is already driving up the road, opening the door for Stiles to get in. Had Stiles actually cared, he would have noticed the fact that they broke several speed limits while trying to get to the hospital.

 

“Stiles Stilinski….I’m here about my dad. Is there any news yet?” He’s frantic, and both Peter and him look exactly like they should having been called out of bed at two in the morning.

 

“I’m sorry, he’s still in surgery. I can’t give you any more than that. If you could fill out these forms, that would be a great help though. The doctors will come to you once they know more. You can take a seat over there.” Stiles doesn’t want to do paperwork. He doesn’t want to wait and take a seat. He wants to know what happened to his dad and whether or not that he’s going to make it.

 

He lets Peter guide him over to the chairs though, and numbly answers the questions about his father’s health and medical insurance. Peter snaps his fingers twice in front of his face to keep him focussed enough, and once he’s scrawled his signature on the bottom of the page, the old man leaves, returning a few minutes later without the paperwork, but carrying a cup of coffee this time.

 

“I can’t lose him too…he’s all I have.” Stiles mutters, running a hand through his hair.

 

“I know, Stiles.” Peter doesn’t try to give him meaningless words. He just tugs Stiles closer to his chest, and doesn’t say anything. It doesn’t magically comfort Stiles, but unlike the last time he was seated in the same hospital, waiting for the doctors to declare his mother dead, he’s not alone. It doesn’t make things better, but it keeps him from falling apart. So they sit there in silence, waiting for news. He doesn’t think he’s ever had a worse Valentine’s day.


	20. Chocolate Cake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks you guys for all the lovely comments! Don't forget to subscribe to the verse, because I still have a few oneshots planned.

There are multiple calls by the time morning arrives, and Stiles knows that Peter has informed the team of the Sheriff’s situation. It’s been four hours and the man is still in surgery. Stiles doesn’t need a medical degree to know that it can’t be good. Heather has left him a couple of texts too, telling him she’s thinking of him. They didn’t spend enough time together for her to be at his side he supposed. She had not even gotten to meet his dad, or really any of his friends yet.

 

One by one, they all show up. Scott and Allison are first to arrive, and while he feels guilty about having their Valentine’s day end on such a sour note, he’s grateful for their support. Derek and Braeden are next, and every few minutes another boxer shows up, finished off by Lydia. She looks prim and proper as always, but Stiles can tell she’s as shocked by the news as he is. Everyone knew his father, and he was well liked by all. They aren’t just here in support for Stiles, it’s also for a man they respected.

 

They make an interesting group, with various muscled men and women all crowding around him. Occasionally they are asked for an autograph by an enthusiastic fan. Especially Allison and Kira get requests thanks to their article. Mostly they are just left alone in silence.

 

Peter never leaves his side, other than to replace the cold cups of coffee clutched between his fingers with a new warm one. He doesn’t even taste the drab flavour the few times he bothers to take a sip. All he cares about are the doctors that come into the waiting room every so often. He expects them to be for his dad, but he’s left both disappointed and relieved as they pass him by in favour of delivering both bad and good news to the other people in the room.

 

“Family of Stilinski?” It’s a short woman, looking severe and impassive as she surveys the room, though Stiles is quick to get up to get to her.

 

“How is my dad? Did he make it?” Peter is already at his back, and so is the rest of the team, even if they’re staying at a bigger distance.

 

“Your father was shot in the chest, and the bullet missed his artery by a hairs breath, embedding itself in a rib behind his lung. We’ve managed to repair the damage, but it did hit his lung. He’s currently kept sedated for his own sake, and the next twelve hours are critical with his already existing heart condition. If he makes it through those, he’ll probably make a good recovery.” She explained, giving him a compassionate smile.

 

“Can I see him?” Twelve hours. His dad  just needed to last twelve hours and he would be fine.

 

“Of course, though it’s direct family only at the moment.” Stiles can tell she’s not interested in letting their whole team inside. She doesn’t comment however as his Peter shaped shadow continuous to follow him down the hall. Peter, when he wants something, knows how to make sure people know he’s not going to be deterred without saying a word.

 

“Dad…” The man looks pale and drawn, lying on the hospital bed, a machine on his side pumping oxygen in his lungs, and the heart monitor beating steadily. When Stiles touches his hand, it’s icy cold. “You can’t leave me…you just can’t.”

 

“Stiles, I’ll go let the rest of them know what happened. I’ll be right back.” There is a barely felt squeeze on his shoulder and the sound of Peter’s footsteps as he heads back to the waiting room.

 

“Dad, you can’t give up now alright…you’ve had worse.” Stiles can’t avert his eyes from his dad’s face. He looks so much older all of a sudden, and Stiles feels like he has aged several years himself waiting for news. This isn’t the first time his dad got hurt in the line of duty, but usually it was a broken bone, or dislocated one. Nothing of this magnitude.

 

“You can retire after this. You’re getting too old for it. Just make it through…you can go on that fishing trip you wanted. We can take that road trip we planned when I was fifteen.” His fingers are practically white as he clutches the Sheriff’s hand. It’s a physical proof that the man is still with him. Stiles imagines that the warmth that’s starting to return is the sheriff strengthening, but he knows it’s simply his own warm hands transferring heat.

 

* * *

 

Stiles doesn’t leave the hospital for days. His dad crashes once, halfway through the first day, and everything is touch and go from there. They can’t make any promises about his survival. All Stiles can do is wait and hope that he’ll wake up. They’ve stopped keeping him in a medically induced coma after the first day, but they don’t know whether he’ll start breathing on his own again.

 

Heather shows up with some flowers, but Stiles barely acknowledges her. He barely acknowledges anything. Peter forces him through the motions of getting a shower and changing his clothes after the second day has passed, and gets him soup to make sure he stays hydrated an somewhat fed when solid foods barely get a glance.

 

Stiles appreciates it all, but right now he  can’t find it within himself to actually pay attention to the many cards that have appeared on the man’s bedside, the flowers, or Peter’s attempts to get him to do anything other than to stay at his father’s side. He’ll repay them later on. When his father has woken up and he can breathe again.

 

It doesn’t happen for another week. There are promising signs of his recovering health, but Stiles doesn’t believe it until his father is actually looking at him. It’s clear the sheriff is still disoriented, but Stiles doesn’t care. The moment the doctors have removed the tubes from his throat, he’s there to hug him as tightly as he dares with the man still injured.

 

“Stiles…?” The man croaks, clearly confused about everything.

 

“You got shot dad. You’ve been out of it for a week. I thought I lost you.” Stiles doesn’t care that he’s crying at the moment. There is such a feeling of euphoria and relief knowing the man isn’t just awake, but also seems to have no brain damage in any way. The doctors hadn’t been able to tell him whether or not the heart failure had kept his brain from oxygen for too long on top of the damage already received from slamming onto the ground when he got shot.

 

Blue eyes narrow in confusion as the man no doubt tries to piece together what he still remembers of his last moments awake. There is a cough behind Stiles, and Peter’s sitting up from the chair he’d fallen asleep in. “Glad to see you are awake. Stiles has kept a constant vigil.” Stiles rolls his eyes. Only Peter would say something like that to a man who just woke up from a coma. “I’ll go and tell the rest.” Stiles knows it’s just so he can have some private time with his father.

 

“Don’t ask.” He mutters when his father seems both amused and intrigued to find Peter at his bedside as well.

 

* * *

 

Despite having been under for a week, the sheriff is already discharged after two days of observation, but only on the strict instructions of Stiles being there to keep an eye on him. Stiles doesn’t mind. His dad hates the hospital as much as Stiles does, and it’s no hardship to move back to his old home for a week or two.

 

“I have not seen Heather around much. I thought you two were getting serious.” Stiles is just working on collecting the dishes from where his dad is propped up on the couch. The change in topic isn’t too surprising, but Stiles wonders why he’s bringing it up now.

 

“We were…we are. I just have you to take care of at the moment, and she knows that. I’ll see her again when the doctors clear you.” He shrugs, moving the tray to the kitchen.

 

“I’ve seen Peter around here though.” Stiles almost breaks one of the glasses as he puts them on the counter.

 

“What does he have to do with that? Peter offered to help me out. He was just bringing over some tapes for me to review.” His dad knew Peter and him were just friends nowadays. Peter watching the game with them meant nothing.

 

“He also brought over our groceries, and helped you with that loose step on the stairs.” Moving back into the living room, Stiles stared at his dad.

 

“If you have something to say, just spit it out. I know you like Peter, but I am actually dating someone else.”

 

“I know, and if I thought she’d make you happy I wouldn’t question it…” Stiles’  eyebrows climbed a little higher.

 

“Heather does make me happy. She’s smart and funny…you haven’t even met her yet.” It wasn’t like his dad to cast a judgement without hearing all sides.

 

“Stiles, I may not have always been the perfect father, but I’ve seen the way you look at that man. The way he looks at you.”

 

“That doesn’t change anything. Peter and I don’t want the same thing. He wants friends with benefits…I need something more than that. He’s not the kind of guy who is ever going to tell me ‘I love you’.” He doesn’t try to deny that he’s still very much in love with Peter. It’s something he just hopes will fade away over time.

 

“Is that what you need? Someone to tell you that they love you? I didn’t take Peter as the kind of guy to take more people to his bed either…” The sheriff doesn’t seem in the least bit convinced of Stiles’ arguments.

 

“Isn’t that what it’s all about? I want what you and mom had…Peter isn’t going to give me that.” He wanted the kind of relationship his parents had had before his mother had gone insane.

“Stiles, love isn’t measured by the amount of times you tell someone that you love them. It’s being there when they need you. It’s about making them happy. My most fond memories of your mother aren’t the ones where she told me she loved me, but her smile when I surprised her with a gift…the inside jokes we shared. I failed her at the end. I wasn’t there for you or her. I told her a thousand times that I loved her when I was at her bedside, but I didn’t show it to her. Words matter very little in the end.” It was probably the first time his dad had truly talked about the time Claudia had been in the hospital and his absence the day she died.

 

“So you think I should just accept that he’s never going to tell me that he actually gives a shit. I should just know from the way he behaves. I’m not a mind reader dad…” Stiles sighed, settling himself in a chair, feeling incredibly weary.

 

“I think that your Peter simply needs time. You can’t force him to tell you, but do you honestly believe that he doesn’t care about you in that way? If you believe he doesn’t say it because he simply does not love you, then by all means, leave him be.” Stiles gnawed on his lip, knowing his dad was probably right.

 

“Am I horrible person for wanting to hear that he loves me?” Was Stiles truly such a terrible person for asking Peter to actually confirm things for him?

 

“Everyone likes to know they are loved Stiles, but not everyone is quite as capable of confessing to it. ‘I love you’ doesn’t carry the same message for everyone.”

 

Stiles pondered on that for a while. Peter had lost so many people already, and it was Derek’s puppy love that caused the rift in their tightknit family. It wasn’t like Stiles had ever really confessed to being in love with Peter. He had only accused the man of not being capable of saying it, but he had never confirmed for Peter that the feeling was mutual. He had asked for time. Time to adjust to this new shift in their relationship. Stiles thought he’d given it, but perhaps he had just been so desperate to hear it that he hadn’t been fair to Peter.

 

“Dad….”

 

“I’ve already called Melissa to come over. Tell Peter I said hi, and that I still know how to use a gun if he ever hurts you.” Yeah, so maybe his dad knew him better than Stiles had thought he did.

 

* * *

 

“Stiles, what are you doing here?...did you bring cake?” The box in his hands was still warm, and Stiles could see Peter’s nose twitch as the smells became clearer.

 

“I broke up with Heather.” It hadn’t been all that emotional. She hadn’t been thrilled of course, but considering Stiles hadn’t really cared much about having her around when something of this magnitude happened in his life, she had already seen it coming. He liked her, but not enough to call her to talk about things.

 

“Usually when you stress bake you do it here. Not that I don’t want a piece of that cake.” Peter’s confusion would have been amusing if Stiles wasn’t so goddamn nervous.

 

“Hear me out okay…I like being told that someone loves me. I’m not a mind reader. I need confirmation of things. You…you suck at telling things to me, period. You bottle things up, and you absolutely suck at apologizing when it’s your lack of communication that screws things up between us...”

 

“Stiles…”

 

“I said, hear me out.” Stiles huffs, placing a hand over Peter’s mouth to get the message across. “You are older than me, you have more money, and you can be the most insufferable person I’ve ever met. I didn’t think I’d ever consider dating someone as emotionally constipated as you, but I am fucking in love with you, and I don’t want to spend my life without you. So I’ll concede to the fact that you will not be the kind of person to remember Valentine’s day, or even wants to celebrate any anniversary, and that you will not tell me I love you every day….and I’ll even give you time…if you can promise me that I’m the only one for you. That maybe, just maybe, you can tell me that you love me too.”

 

There is a moment of silence, and he can’t help but wonder if he was wrong after all. That Peter just simply doesn’t love him in that way. “I mean, I just really would like to –umppgh”

 

Peter has reeled him in, and he doesn’t really remember what he had been planning to say anymore. The man’s lips are firmly on his, and Stiles wonders if this is Peter telling him he accepts the terms Stiles set forth, or if he is simply trying to make him stop talking.

 

“So you agree…” He manages to get out when he finally gets some of his breath back in his lungs.

 

“Stiles…I love you too, you idiot.” Peter huffs against his lips.

 

“See, emotionally constipated. You can’t just say it without the insult…”

 

“Stiles, shut up.” He happily obliges when Peter kisses him again. The cake drops on the floor, but neither of them pay it any mind. Stiles will have the rest of his life to bake Peter chocolate cake. Right now, he has other things on his mind.      

   **The End.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More than 40k words, more than a 100 comments, and a lot of fun! I'm not done with the verse yet, but this is the end for Sucker Punch.


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